Hard Case (Quentin Case Book 1)

by John Hook

  "Whatever it is, it is technology.” I looked at Izzy. "I need you two to figure it out."

  "There's something you need to ask yourself then."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This is the only one we have. It is possible that the only way to figure it out is to take it apart. It may be that the only way to take it apart is to break it."

  "Meaning, we might figure it out but no longer be able to use it."

  "Or, worse, we may not be able to figure it out, even when we have broken it."

  This was why I always sent my gadgets in to be fixed rather than saving money doing it myself. I was always afraid I'd end up with a dead gadget. However, there was a reason I wasn't using caution in this place. We had accomplished a lot in a surprisingly short amount of time. We were in a place where there was enough power to swat us like flies. I had a lot of questions about why that power had not already been unleashed more than we had seen, but I didn't think it was because it wasn't really there. We had been successful so far by a combination of dumb luck and moving faster than anyone would expect, by doing what no one thought we had the gumption to do. We had to keep it up.

  "I want you to go over every millimeter of that thing looking for a Chinese puzzle box mechanism. Consult with Saripha; remember this is a place where magic seems to be a force."

  "And if we can't get into it?” Izzy held my gaze.

  "Break it."

  "If we can,” Taka muttered.

  I looked over at Taka. He shrugged. "We have no idea what this is made out of. We don't know its tensile strength, melting point, and so forth. We have no high powered cutting tools."

  "But it is scratched.” I was stating a fact, but I noticed it came out more like a question.

  "I'm not sure. I didn't see those before. I know nothing we have done has made a mark on it."

  "I'm betting you two will figure out a way."

  Izzy grinned. "Probably. I just hope we can figure out what is inside because it will likely be unusable."

  "Figure it out so when we steal another one, we can use it"

  I left the hardy boys with a gleam in their eyes, armed with permission to break our new toy. I was hoping they wouldn't need to, but I could see the simplicity of the design. It was like being asked to figure out what an egg was without breaking it.

  As I wandered back towards town I began to arrange our situation in my head. Izzy and Taka were working on arming us. Kyo was working with the "new citizens" and would likely transition promising ones from tai chi to martial arts and then weapons training. We were taking a lot of time, unfortunately, but not much could be done about that, no matter how impatient I was. I could take all the personal risks I wanted, but I wasn't sending unprepared citizens out to fight a battle I started. However, that didn't mean I wasn't going to do active "recruiting" with the citizens, as would Kyo. I had to convince them it was in their best interests to stand up and fight. Paul had a philosophical disagreement with me over that assumption.

  In all, everything that could be done here was being done. That left me to take care of the next step. We needed intelligence. We needed to know what was going on "out there," what plans were being put in place to deal with us, what Hell's reaction to our little revolution was going to be. I had to find out about the next level, the manitor who had been Janovic's master. I was also vaguely curious about the implications of Janovic disappearing into the ground rather than becoming a proto. It’s like those horror movies where they kill the monster, but when they look, the body has disappeared.

  I suddenly emerged from my reverie and was startled to see where I was. I had been wandering the back streets meandering towards town. I stood now behind the apartment building where Rox had lived, where Katrina still lived. She was up with Saripha now, but I found myself drawn to the place. It was both a common and evolving point of reference in my new existence, although it was a bit ironic to refer to death as existence. I felt a compulsion to experience it again, though I wasn’t sure why. At least she wouldn’t be there.

  I came around to the front of the building and let myself in. One of these days we were going to have to invent better locks. This was Hell, after all. Who knew what kind of riff raff they let in here? I walked up to her landing and stood in front of the door. It opened without my knocking. Rox—Katrina—stood in the doorway. She had sensed me approaching. We were still connected.

  "Quentin.” Her voice was soft.

  "Katrina.” Mr. Case, master of the clever comeback.

  For a moment we just stood there. Uncountable emotions ran through me. I wanted to be over her. I wanted to be past those painful memories. I thought maybe if I just kept away.... It obviously wasn't going to be that easy. For just a moment I caught a glimmer in her eyes as if she was enjoying my discomfort, but it didn’t last.

  “Please come in.” She stood aside.

  I entered the apartment. I walked over to the windows and looked out over the now empty square.

  “I thought you were at the tower.”

  “Kyo came back this morning to attend to the tai chi. I came back with her to give Saripha some time alone, but I’m going back up.”

  She had changed since I had seen her after the battle. She was so clearly Rox that I could once again feel my breath get short as that almost unbearable mixture of anger, sorrow and love poured in. Her black hair fell around her shoulders as it always had, framing her dark, intelligent eyes. She wore a black dress, just as she had that first night. It was the same glamour. I was willing to bet the winged jaguar tattoo was poised on her back as well.

  “Saripha is helping you recover from… Janovic?”

  “Among other things. She is helping me connect to some power within me. I don’t really understand. I feel more whole when I am with her.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I supposed I would ask Saripha for her version.

  "Would you like some tea?” Without waiting for an answer, she churned the wood in the stove and put on a clay pot of water.

  "Sure. Thanks.” Wow. You silver tongued devil you!

  She leaned against the post that rose next to the kitchen area table. She smiled, but not widely. It was the smile for a situation we both knew was uncomfortable.

  "Quentin, I'm glad you came. I was afraid you were just going to keep on avoiding me."

  I was silent for a bit looking for the right words. "I'm sorry. I know none of this is your fault, I don't mean to be cruel."

  "Then let’s talk and see if maybe some things can get worked out."

  "I don't know what..."

  "Neither do I.” She smiled a bit wider. "So let’s just see what happens."

  The water whistled. She turned and threw scoops of leaves into clay cups, poured the water, added some sticky substance that might have been Hell's version of honey—or, my mind whispered, poison—and brought the cups to the table. She motioned me to sit. I decided my mind was probably an unreliable source of information at the moment and decided to sit. She sat across from me. The warm cup was comforting between my hands. I took a sip. It was soothing and sweet.

  She looked at me. The eyes were dark as they had always been, but there seemed less hidden in there. However, the truth was I didn't trust my perceptions.

  "I have some things to tell you.” She took a sip. "I hope you will hear me out whether you have anything to say in return or not."

  I nodded.

  "First, my name is not Katrina, it is Rox. I don't know if that just makes things more painful between us or not, but it is important to me. Although I don't understand why, I feel a connection to the name Rox."

  "Doesn't seem that mysterious. You were Rox."

  "And Rox was evil?"

  "Yes."

  "The other Rox made an evil choice."

  "She used a lot of subterfuge to hide that fact, so I hope you won't be hurt if I remain skeptical of any such distinctions.” I couldn't look her entirely in the eyes while I said this, but I was trying to keep my emo
tions out of it.

  Rox nodded. "Fair enough. You owe me nothing, but I hope you will continue to listen. I feel no connection to the name Katrina. It is only associated with pain and sexual humiliation. From the day I was born as a proto, Janovic used me as his toy, including frequent torture to the edge of death. Unimaginable things. Janovic was evil."

  I could feel renewed rage at Janovic rise up. He wasn't out of my system either. I would no doubt be replaying him in my head for some time to come. It took me awhile to get my emotions under control enough to speak. "I wish I had words to say to you. I have no doubt that you lived with the most unspeakable trauma imaginable. The part of me that still has a rescue complex wants to reach out to you."

  "What about the part of you that still loves me? Or was all that just your rescue complex and guilt after you left me to the demons?"

  I looked up. Her voice was sharp. There was fire in her eyes. However, I could also see she immediately regretted the cruelty of her sharpness.

  "Her. Not you. And, yes, I felt guilty over what I thought was leaving her to torture and death. She exploited that guilt.” I stood and walked back to the windows. I couldn't sit still for this.

  Rox sighed.

  "I'm sorry. I am not trying to open up old wounds, but I am living with them in ways you may not suspect. I am Rox in the sense that I am the proto that emerged from her ‘death.’ You were made a proto, but miraculously, your identity—your memories, your life narrative, your sense of self—were all preserved."

  "Which is why we are in the predicament we are in. I do not have the benefit of being able to forget what Rox did."

  She nodded. "I seem to have been cursed with something in between your amazing feat."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I have some memories intact. I have many of Rox's memories, but not all. I seem to only remember…the good. I remember who I am, I remember what my function was as an escort. I remember you, Saripha and the others. What I don't remember is her betrayal. I don't remember whatever connection she had with Janovic, who was my own nightmare. I don't remember anything about her real schemes for you. It is as if I am Rox, but all of that was a bad dream that makes me shudder, but which I can no longer recollect."

  "And I am just supposed to believe you? The funny thing is, I would like to."

  She came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I could feel my nervous system start instantly to relax. The fact that I wasn’t sure I had a nervous system didn't matter. I brushed the hand away without hostility and turned towards her.

  "I'm sorry. I know your powers of touch. I need to be myself for this conversation."

  "Rox nodded and left her hands at her side as she studied me. ”Do you know what my strongest memory is? I love you—immeasurably."

  "Then you are cursed.” It hurt to say that.

  "As are you. You want to believe me because you are still in love with me."

  "But I can't let myself. Love depends on trust. I can never forget."

  “But you may need to learn to forgive."

  She was close to me, her lips parted. I could smell her. Despite everything, I longed to touch her. It made me angry all over again. Angry at whatever cosmic force had landed me in this place. Angry that Rox didn't die and wasn't just "that evil woman.” Angry that I was so close to putting myself in a position to be betrayed again. I walked away from her.

  "I'm sorry, but I don't think forgiveness is possible. I'm sorry for you."

  "Be sorry for both of us.” She wrapped herself in her arms. "You are as haunted by this as I am."

  "No, I am not,” I lied. "I don't think it does either of us any good to spend time together. We need to let these memories fade, not dredge them back up."

  "They never will fade,” I heard Rox say quietly as I went out the door and down to the street. I suspected she was right.

  I ran back down the main street to my office. I must have looked in quite a mood because the few people who were along the route moved a bit out of my way. I got to my office and went into the storeroom in the back, shutting the door behind me. I then shouted at the top of my lungs and kicked the wall enough times to put a hole in it. Nice. Maturity is a wonderful thing. I sat down on the floor next to the hole, emotionally spent but physically energized. This was more like it. Since the battle and recovery, I had been feeling sluggish, like there wasn't that much more to do although I knew, intellectually, there was.

  Now I felt the same energy and drive I felt when I was fighting the demons. It was time. I had to go after the 0anitor. I had to know what it was. I had to know what the manitor planned to do. I had to find a way to protect us from the next threat.

  19.

  I didn't have to wait long for the manitor to make his first move.

  The next morning I was in my office having tea with Izzy, swearing once more I was going to find something in this place that, when ground up and soaked in hot water, would taste like coffee. Izzy’s shirt of the day read, “If we knew what we were doing, it wouldn’t be science.”

  "I'm guessing from the fact that you are sitting still that you haven't made much progress yet on that little flying thing."

  "Not enough.” Izzy shrugged. "It has cooled down again. As we examine the series of scratches you found, there is some regularity to them, as if they might form a pattern. That means they could be etchings, intentional, rather than scratches. But they have faded too."

  "Have you tried just hopping on the thing? Maybe it will just start up."

  Izzy grinned. "First thing we tried. We also tried concentrating real hard."

  "I'm surprised that didn't work. Did you put your fingers to your temples and wrinkle your brow while squeezing your eyes shut?"

  "Both of us."

  "What about Saripha?"

  "She's been up at the tower. Rox is headed up there, so I thought Taka and I would take the platform and go with her."

  "How come everyone but me is so easygoing with Rox?"

  Izzy shrugged. "We weren't in love with her when she betrayed us. Also, both Saripha and Kyo are inclined to forgive her. Kyo considers her more a victim than anything else. I guess the rest of us have decided to forgive her too."

  "You think I'm being unfair."

  "No, your situation is different."

  “I hear a 'but' in there."

  "But, she is one of us. You are going to have to find a way to live with her no matter how conflicted you are about her."

  I didn’t say anything.

  "Have you come up with a plan yet?"

  "Of course. I find the manitor and kick his ass."

  "Hey, why mess with a winning formula?”

  "The trouble is that I don't know anything about the manitor. He might not have an ass."

  "There's that."

  They were suddenly there. No flash of light. No cloud of smoke. No sound. Just two... I didn't know what they were. I assumed they were a new form of demon, but they were as different from the demons we had seen before as could be,

  Their entrance was so subtle, it took both Izzy and me a moment to react. One moment we were alone, the next they were there, sitting in two chairs I had arranged in front of my desk. They were so still, it was hard to tell if they were alive,

  They were much larger than the demons I had seen before, both in girth and height. Their skin was green with intricate ridge patterns. Their faces were wide with heavy-lidded yellow eyes. They looked like frogs despite being humanoid and they appeared slow, almost asleep. When Izzy and I suddenly noticed them, they smiled, slowly, revealing a single row of shiny but sharp spiked teeth.

  Izzy almost dropped his tea when he did register them. He looked at me to gauge my reaction. "Are you having the same hallucination I am?"

  "Apparently.” I eased up out of my chair and picked up my cup. The demon frogs in front of us made no reaction. "I think I need more tea for this."

  I stepped past the desk to where the tea pot sat on a small table behind the frogs. Their ey
es didn't even follow me. They just kept displaying their enigmatic smiles like they were wearing masks. I set my cup down gently, then whirled hard with a roundhouse kick. The foot never connected. I felt a force grab me. The next thing I knew, I slammed into the wall behind my desk, sliding down to the floor, my back aching. I looked up at Izzy who was bending over me, brow furrowed with concern. The frogs were still in their chairs, smiling. They appeared to not have moved.

  "Ow. I don't suppose you caught what happened there."

  "Not really, and I was looking. However, I suspect you may have to come up with a plan B."

  "Are you kidding? They look ready to surrender to me."

  "No doubt they heard of your reputation and are about to beg for mercy."

  I brushed myself off and sat back down in my chair. My shoulder throbbed just a bit, but I wasn't about to let on.

  The frogs just stared back at me, still smiling, not blinking, never moving. The only movement was a slight pulsing at the sides of their throats, which I suspected was their method of breathing.

  We sat quietly like that for a while. I was trying to think. That wasn't working out too well. "Do you demons speak, use telepathy, what?”

  "When it is useful,” the one on the right said.

  "We actually use one to create the illusion of the other” the one on the left said. I decided to call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

  "I have no idea what you just said."

  Tweedledee smiled. "We use telepathy, but we find moving our lips allows creatures such as yourselves to create the illusion that the words are coming from us and not inside your head."

  I turned to Izzy. "Polite demons."

  "Kind of formal too."

  I turned back to Tweedledee and Tweedledum. It was clear that these were dangerous creatures. I don't know how they did to me what happened a moment before, but they were not anything that they appeared. They were smart and possibly fast. There were only two of them, but that might be enough. I had to learn as much as I could about them.