Tomb Raiding PHD

by Martha Carr

  A nearby streetlight kicked on and revealed Shay’s vicious grin to the groaning men.

  A few of the men’s eyes widened. They’d expected several people—several men—but instead, they got one very determined and badass woman.

  It’s almost more fun to do this without killing them, but we’ll see.

  She snickered.

  Minutes later, the gangsters all stood with their fingers laced together behind their heads.

  Lily carried a small plastic bag when she jogged into the alley. Once the street light illuminated her face and hair, several of the gangsters growled.

  “It’s the bitch who stole from us,” one man snarled. “You think you can steal from the 25K Triad? No one steals from us and lives.”

  Several others shouted their agreement or continued growling.

  What the fuck? How about a little class, assholes?

  Shay fired once into the air. That shut them up.

  “I’m trying really hard not to kill anyone tonight. I don’t want trouble with your buddies, but at the same time, I can’t have you going after this girl. She’s a friend of mine.”

  A tall man with a scarred face who Shay pegged as the leader pointed at Lily. “That little bitch stole from us. Not just anything, but a magical artifact.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “That you stole yourself.”

  “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she took something that belongs to the 25K Group.”

  Shay sighed and shook her head. “You know, I get it. You guys are with a big triad, and your triad has a reputation. You can’t have anyone damaging that reputation.”

  “That’s right. You can kill us here, but then our brothers will flood these streets and make everyone you love pay in blood for what you’ve done.”

  “Like I said, I’m not trying to kill anyone. The thing is, I don’t have a reputation I can scare you with because I’m trying to keep a fucking low profile.” Shay gestured with the gun, and her mouth twitched. “But I can still trade on a reputation. I hate to do this, but if you guys won’t be reasonable, I’m going to have to take drastic measures.”

  The gangster leader frowned. “What does that mean?” He rattled something off in Cantonese, and the other men offered a dark laugh.

  Shay pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to Lily.

  The teen took the card and eyed it. “What is this?”

  “It’s a one-use card. It’s got a phone number and some magic. When you use it, the guy who gives out the cards will know your location. The real point is that the guy connected to the card will come if you use it. Read who the card is from for the nice 25K gentlemen.”

  Lily flipped the card in her palm. “James Brownstone.”

  Murmurs rippled through the men.

  Shay grinned. “Yeah, I’m out of town sometimes, but James usually isn’t. You can use that card to help you with trouble.” She nodded toward the men. “Trouble like them.” She motioned with the gun. “You can drop your hands, but if any of you go for a gun, you all die.”

  The men grimaced and slowly dropped their hands.

  “Anyway, back to the card.” Shay sighed. “I hate trying to ride on anyone’s coattails, but shit, if this were tomb raiding, I’d have the rep to push you. Just to be clear, that’s a card from the one and only James Brownstone, and I’ve just given it to this girl you’re after. She might decide in a few minutes to call James Brownstone and explain to him that the triads are after her and ruining his city.”

  The leader’s eyes widened, and he visibly swallowed. “James Brownstone? The Granite Ghost?”

  Shay winked. “You forget my favorite, Scourge of Harriken.” She shook her finger and made a mocking face. “But that’s just it. There aren’t any Harriken left to harass.” She shrugged. “But there are a lot of triad guys he might want to take a crack at. This is a man who traveled all the way to Japan to finish them off. You think he won’t waste your asses and take a road trip to San Francisco to kill the rest of you?”

  She yearned to brag about her participation in the Tokyo assault, but keeping the men focused on the Brownstone threat would make it easier to manipulate them.

  The leader gritted his teeth. “We can’t just let someone steal from us and walk away. It’ll make the 25K Group look weak.”

  “I don’t even have it anymore,” Lily explained. “I lost it.”

  The man sneered. “Then you must offer restitution.”

  Shay nodded. She had to give the triad members credit. None of them panicked that they’d been cornered in a dark alley where they could easily be killed.

  “Give it to them, Lily.” Shay pointed at the bag.

  The teen tossed the bag toward the leader, and he snatched it out of the air.

  “What’s this?”

  Shay nodded toward the bag. “There’s an onyx brooch inside. It’s magic, but it only works for magical beings. You can probably sell it for a couple thousand, which from what I understand exceeds the value of your incense.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t the same.”

  “Don’t be a dick. You whined about restitution. Well, that is restitution.” Shay waved the gun. “You’ve been paid back, so don’t become a greedy fuck now. I’m trying to provide everyone a way out of this shit without anyone getting hurt.”

  The leader frowned and held up the bag. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “Go get it checked by someone magical. If it’s fake, then feel free to keep searching for my friend. But otherwise, you stay the fuck away from this girl. Take your prize and go home, but if you come at her again after being paid back, we’ll find a more permanent solution. One that probably involves James Brownstone earning the new nickname ‘Scourge of Triads.’”

  The men all winced.

  Shay backed up, and Lily followed.

  The tomb raider gestured with her gun. “Now get the fuck out of here before my finger slips.”

  The men filed out in a single line, each casting an angry glare at Shay and Lily. Once they were out of the alley they ran off, and a few them flipped Shay off over their shoulders.

  Shay let out a breath. “Well, that shit went better than I thought. I think mentioning James combined with that artifact will be enough to keep them away from you.”

  Lily looked down at the ground. “Thanks, Shay. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “This shit wasn’t free.”

  The teen blinked and looked up. “Excuse me?”

  “That brooch was worth a couple thousand, and I just gave it away.” Shay holstered her gun and pointed to the retreating gangsters in the distance. “That two thousand belongs to Peyton and it’s going to come out of your share of the next job’s profits. Everyone earns their keep when they’re working for me.”

  Lily nodded quickly. “I understand, and I’m sorry about all this.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Lily. Just pay it back, and we’ll be fine.”

  Shay spared another glance at the disappearing triad members. She’d bruised and bloodied a few, and they’d probably suffer the lingering effects of the sonic grenades for a couple of hours, but she hadn’t killed a single man.

  It was an odd experience defeating a gang without serious bloodshed, but the important thing was, they should stop coming after Lily.

  The old Shay truly is dead. The old Shay would have wasted all those guys the first minute she ran into them.

  Lily eyed Shay. “Something wrong?”

  The tomb raider shook her head. “Nope, just thinking about how things change. Let’s get back to the van and the warehouse.”

  11

  Peyton whistled as he made his way down the narrow hallway in the physics building with his hands in the pockets of his Nehru jacket. No one even glanced his way. It was as if he were meant to be in a place like this.

  Maybe I’m just not that suspicious-looking? Damn. I think Shay’s got me thinking in weird ways now.
>
  His stomach tightened as a frowning man in a suit approached from the opposite direction. His gaze lingered for a few long seconds. There was nothing wrong with a visitor heading to the computational physics department, but that wasn’t what worried Peyton.

  Shay Scrooged my brother, and it looks like it’s working, but how can we be sure? Maybe he’s just waiting for the right time to track me down and kill me, like when I’m going to meet my girlfriend for lunch. Randy would love to kill me on a date. That’s so him.

  The man passed Peyton without saying anything, let alone pulling out a gun and plugging several bullets into him.

  Paranoia is not just a river in… Oh, wait, that doesn’t work.

  Peyton frowned as he continued down the hallway. Randy now knew that his accounts were being watched, so he wouldn’t hire someone. If he could figure out where Peyton was, maybe he’d finally take matters into his own hands and finish off his brother. That was assuming he still believed him to be alive.

  Randy acted like it, but he was letting greed up his paranoia.

  Coolidge family paranoia for the win!

  Peyton scrubbed a hand over his face and stopped in front of the door to Amber’s office. It might be easier to ask Shay to go kill his brother. She had broken into his house easily enough. Finishing him off without getting caught would probably be just as trivial. It wasn’t like she didn’t have years of experience killing people and getting away with it.

  He groaned.

  What am I thinking? I’m going to put out a hit on my brother? Sure, he did it to me, but I’m not a complete asshole like he is. Besides, if Shay thought it was the only way, she wouldn’t have gone and Scrooged him. This can work. No one else has to die.

  He blew out a breath. The idea of Randy coming to LA to kill him was stupid on several levels, but there was a more important fact to consider.

  “Not like Randy’s going to be around any smart people,” he mumbled under his breath. “Or even semi-smart people.”

  With a chuckle and a light heart, Peyton knocked softly on the door.

  “Come in,” Amber called.

  Peyton opened the door and entered. The cramped office only had enough room for a small black desk with a computer and a couple of chairs. Although Amber’s soft leather chair looked comfortable enough, the other side of the desk had only a stiff black plastic chair.

  It’s like getting called to the principal’s office.

  The dark-haired woman frowned as she continued staring at her computer screen. Her fingers rattled the keyboard in a machine-gun staccato. “I’m almost done, and then we can go to lunch. Sorry.”

  Peyton sat with a shrug. “Take your time.”

  “You know how programming goes. Sometimes it’s easy, and sometimes you just want to pull your hair out.”

  Peyton chuckled. “Yeah. What are you working on?”

  “Oh, a big joint project between the physics department, computational physics department, and the extra-dimensional engineering department. Of course, despite all the people involved, I’m doing most of the heavy lifting on the programming, especially for the testing simulations.” Amber grinned, her happy face contrasting with her complaints. “I guess everyone’s acknowledging that I’m the best.”

  “I think you’re the best.”

  Amber beamed at him. “Thanks, Peyton.”

  “So what is it that you’re working on? Something cool?”

  She nodded. “Simulations on high-energy containment.”

  Peyton nodded. “Oh? What for?”

  “Fusion containment, mostly.” Amber bobbed her head and continued typing. “It’s not like there’s been tons of money for esoteric physics experiments, with everything that’s happened in the last couple of decades. And you know, practical fusion—it’s always five years away.” She finished typing, sighed, and leaned back. “So, step one is exploring simulations of how we might apply magical containment systems to fusion reactions using a specialized type of air magic that seems to function somewhere between telekinesis and gravity manipulation.” She shrugged. “Some of the physics are slightly above my pay grade, let alone the magic, but the short version is that if these simulations go well, there’s a good chance the university can get funding for a kind of magically-enhanced reactor that would be very powerful but way smaller and cheaper than other power sources.” She smiled. “Lots of papers have come out of the university on the subject, even if they are a little coy on the applications. It’s funny how everyone is still afraid of talking about magic even though we know it’s very real and powers a whole other civilization.”

  Peyton sighed. He wasn’t solving the energy crisis when he ran down info for Shay or hacked into a few cameras. How lame. He almost didn’t deserve a woman like Amber.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He pointed to her computer. “I’m guessing you’re not doing your super-physics and magical simulations on a desktop.”

  Amber laughed. “Of course not. The department has a dedicated compute cluster for this kind of thing. I access it remotely.”

  “I’ve got to admit, I’ve got tech envy. You have a bigger processor than I do, and your speed is so much faster.”

  “Well, you know what they say… Sometimes it’s not about how big and fast something is.”

  Peyton snorted. Amber eyed him quizzically.

  She doesn’t even know, does she?

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’re inspirational. Dating you convinces me I need to up my game.”

  “Not always a bad thing.”

  “Yeah.” Peyton nodded toward the door. “Can you head out to lunch now, or are you still waiting on something?”

  Amber clicked her mouse a few times and stood. “No, I’m good. Just been a busy week.” She stretched for a moment. “Lots of projects coming together at the same time. Intriguing, but stressful.”

  “Besides trying to solve the energy crisis, what else are you helping with?”

  “I’m involved in a big project with a lot of external corporate funding for quantum-proof public-key encryption.”

  Peyton stood. “Oh, well, that’d be cool if it were practical. But you know, it's not like the average person is going to be able to beat the quantum computers that the NSA is throwing at stuff. Not heard anything about any companies bringing that sort of thing to market.”

  Amber shook her head. “This isn’t some blue-sky thing. They’ve already got a working system.” She chuckled. “To be fair, it does involve a little magic. I don’t know if that’s cheating. They’ve been saying this kind of thing has been close for years, but now it actually is.”

  “Should you even be telling me this?” Peyton opened the door for her.

  Amber stepped through and shrugged. “Maybe not, but you’re my boyfriend. Don’t want to have too many secrets from my boyfriend, right?”

  Peyton smiled, even as a small part of him felt guilty. She shared secrets with him, and he had so many he was keeping from her. Very dangerous ones, at that.

  Some inside information about upcoming technology isn’t on the same level as knowing aliens other than Oricerans exist and have been to our planet. Or that Shay used to be a killer. I wish I could tell her, though.

  For now, though, Peyton didn’t care. He just wanted to have a good time at lunch with his girlfriend.

  Later that afternoon, Peyton sat at his computer skimming several journal articles that concerned the university’s research, along with some journal articles on arXiv, a publicly accessible server covering preprint journal articles.

  “Geeze, way to make me feel dumb, Amber,” he muttered, as he pursued the abstract of his fifth article. Peyton wasn’t a physicist, and the amount of direct computer-related material in many of the articles wasn’t as much as he would have liked. Even when he looked up the supplemental information, he was often lost. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

  Dating a woman smarter than him was going to take a lot of work if he wa
nted to keep up. They chatted briefly about the fusion containment project at lunch, and Peyton found himself asking more questions than offering interesting insights.

  Hope she doesn’t get bored with me, but she seemed really happy to just be able to talk about it with someone. I can always listen. Easy enough.

  Peyton’s gaze locked on a sentence in the latest article.

  Beyond the implications for the energy grid, a fusion reactor of this size could easily be used to provide power for vehicles, and with a few small modifications, space probes and spacecraft. Given the continued expense per kilogram of low-earth orbit (LEO) cargo transfer, reductions in propellant mass have implications toward the future of space exploration.

  “I’ve heard something like this recently,” Peyton muttered. “Really damn recently. But where?”

  He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember where he might have even read something like that. It wasn’t as if he normally spent a lot of time reading academic physics journal articles.

  Peyton’s eyes widened. But he did spend a lot of time doing background research on jobs. It had to be that.

  He brought up his browser history and started skimming it. It auto deleted at midnight, but he was sure that he’d read something similar to the article’s mention of space exploration earlier that morning.

  A few minutes passed as he scrolled, clicked, and frowned after failing to find anything useful. Finally, he found an article from a decade earlier on vimanas and how the ancient Hindu flying machines and occasionally flying palaces might be responsible for many ancient UFO sightings.

  Professor Smite-Williams’d had Shay grab a vimana-related artifact, so that settled the question of whether vimanas were real.

  Peyton started reading the article.

  Many stories about the fanciful technologies purportedly being developed by the Nazi Regime were previously dismissed because of their technological improbability, but with the open acknowledgment of magic, a reevaluation of these stories may be necessary.