Guardian

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Aaah! That’s cold!” Evan squealed.

  Kirsten reopened the email she sent to Eze with the images, and added a question: “Captain, Evan’s got a rating in accelerated healing… is it possible for it to work in reverse and cause an injury instead of repairing one? Perhaps driven by the subconscious in response to a nightmare of being beaten?”

  She cradled her breast again. “Be right back.”

  “Anything else, girl?” Theodore tipped a nonexistent hat.

  “Can a ghost induce nightmares?” She paused. “Specific nightmares?”

  Theodore rubbed his chin. “Hmm. That’s a good one. You know I’ve never rightly tried to do that before. Usually bein’ ‘round people is enough to give ‘em the heebies. This kid’s damn frustrating.”

  “You’re not scary, Theo.” Evan smirked.

  “Let me do some, uhh, ‘scientific experimentation.’” Theodore winked. “I’ll get back to you.”

  Evan lowered the datapad against his knees. “Mom? You said with the psi ‘hibitor, it made you hear what you’re most ‘fraid of, right? If a ghost caused a bad dream, maybe I just dreamed what scared me?”

  “Hmm.” Kirsten picked at the sofa cushion. “Theo, please don’t do anything that’ll generate a dispatch. I’ve got too much going on already.” Theodore’s right… Evan’s not afraid of ghosts. Damn. Another abyssal?

  Her NetMini rang. Expecting Captain Eze, she rushed over to answer. “Wren.”

  “Lieutenant,” said a dispatch doll who looked eighteen, blonde and blue-eyed. The false girl projected as much professionalism as her cute face and oversized eyes could. “Your presence is requested at the General E. Evelyn Price Memorial Medical Center in Sector 9917.”

  Evan’s smile evaporated. He went pale and stared at her.

  She gripped his shoulder. “Is this an emergency? What happened?”

  The artificial girl responded with a fervent nod and an expression like her parents had been shot; she had either a living brain or a fully sentient AI. “A woman connected to Inquest 24181108A1 has been admitted in critical condition. Before she lost consciousness, she kept repeating ‘Kirsten… Division 0’ over and over.”

  She looked at Evan, knowing she needed to go, but unable to bear the thought of leaving him right now. Maybe I should stay… no, I can’t. If that ghost is there, she’s going to die. “Okay. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” She hung up.

  “Mom…” Evan’s lip quivered. He reached up asking to be held. “Please don’t leave me.”

  Kirsten took a knee and clasped his hand. “Someone’s been hurt. You know I don’t want to leave you.” As much as it tore her heart into fine strips to see that face on him, that he finally expressed some level of resentment at her having to go away made her feel better. He’s coming out of his shell… he’s not afraid I’ll get rid of him.

  “I… Nila can’t help.” He swallowed hard and glanced in the direction of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “I thought I heard Mick’s voice.”

  That’s what’s scared him. Kirsten clenched her hands into fists. She’d seen horrors that would’ve probably left even Commander Ashford sucking his thumb, but… if Mother ever came back, she might mentally turn into that terrified little girl again. No. Kirsten closed her eyes, remembering the not-quite-dream where she shattered the paddle with a lash. I killed your hold on me, Mother. She grabbed Evan by the shoulders and locked eyes. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”

  Dread flashed to eagerness. He bolted for his room.

  Kirsten looked at the ceiling after standing up. “It’s only a hospital. Please be safe.”

  Buildings raced by, silver and glass lit cobalt blue by camera-snap flashes from the bar lights on the patrol craft roof. Evan sat in the back, behind the passenger seat so he could see her. Once out of the apartment, he seemed to gain a measure of confidence as well as his usual color back. The change in him proved something had decided to invade their home. She glanced at the empty passenger seat. Dorian must be worn out after those idiots. I wonder what he did to Ron. Bastard deserved it.

  Kirsten scowled at the lines on the heads-up display that traced a ‘road’ through the air towards the medical center. Shimmery highlights of bright lime green appeared on every century tower or advert bot that got close, helping her see in the dark.

  “Wren?” Captain Eze’s holographic head appeared in the center of the console. Rather than a uniform, he wore a dark blue top with a Chinese style collar. “I saw your message. How is he?”

  “Fine now.” She smiled back at Evan for a second. “I’ve ruled out direct paranormal contact, and if a physical person has done that to him, they’re also telepath enough to remove it from his memory.”

  “I did some asking around concerning your theory of accelerated healing working backwards.” He pursed his lips as if whistling, but made no sound. “There’s some hush-hush stuff circulating about an individual with a level of that ability never before seen. I am told this girl is supposedly able to affect other people with the talent… and has at least on one occasion admitted to using it offensively. Commander Kovalev”―his hands drifted into the hologram and made air quotes―“did not tell me about it. It seems the girl managed to weaponize her healing ability during a moment of extreme emotional distress and the event is, according to that file I ‘didn’t’ see, not easily repeatable.”

  Kirsten’s brain stalled at the mention of someone using accelerated healing on another person. “On other people? That’s not supposed to be possible.”

  Captain Eze chuckled. “Neither are demons or ghosts. I think you might have a good theory there. Self-inflicted on a subconscious level. The good news is you’re probably right. The bad news is they want to take a closer look at him.”

  She cringed.

  “It’s okay, Mom. They’re nice.”

  Kirsten exhaled. “Okay. I guess it’s in his best interest to find out what happened. Sir, I’m about to land. Can I call you back in a little while?”

  “Unless you’ve got something more urgent going on, we can talk in the morning. Have a good night, Lieutenant.”

  “Sir.” She nodded. At least protocol didn’t require salutes while driving hovercars.

  The phantasmal roadway outlined by her HUD curved left and went down at an angle no wheeled car would’ve been able to stay on, plunging into a thick mass of green-tinged fog. She followed it to within a hundred yards of the parking deck attached to the medical center, put the patrol craft down in the emergency zone by the door, and left the bar-lights flashing when she got out. Evan darted after her before she could make up her mind if she wanted to tell him to wait in the car.

  He pushed her and pointed at the door, which she took as an omen, whether or not it was merely the impatience of a boy. She zipped past the automatic doors, startling a group of standby medtechs waiting for arriving hover ambulances. Their odd looks faded as they processed her uniform, and settled back into their NetMinis and video games.

  Kirsten ran the length of a white-floored corridor wide enough for ten people to stand abreast, and skidded to a halt at an information desk in coral orange/pink at the center of a large octagonal area loaded with bench seats, unused hover-chairs, and five carts full of dirty meal trays.

  “Excuse me. Where is Julia Dominguez?” She held up her ID. “I received an emergency call?”

  “Damn they start those Zeroes younger every day,” said a bass voice somewhere behind her.

  “One second, Lieutenant,” said a living man, probably close to her age. Of the nine bodies staffing the desk, only he and a slender dark-skinned woman had surface thoughts. “Procedure room 33-E. I’m not sure you should go in there now, though. The system is showing an alarm state. Probably chaotic and best for her if you―”

  “Best for her if I get there right away. Waypoint me, now.”

  The man gestured as if grabbing something from his holo-panel display and throwing it to/at her. Her forearm guard lit up with a mi
nimap.

  “Thanks.”

  She ran, following the holographic arrow over her extended arm. Evan sprinted behind her, clinging to his datapad. It led her to an elevator, at which point it showed a ‘33’ for the floor. After riding down eight stories, the arrow brought her to another hallway, past a desk with three dolls―who all asked if they could help her at the same time. She ignored them and rushed up to a door much like the one she’d encountered when carrying young Brooke’s spirit back to the medical tank in which her body floated.

  A female security officer in a green military uniform with a black MP armband stood guard by the entry, hands clasped behind her back and a large sidearm at her hip. The nearly six-foot woman looked over and down at Kirsten as she ran up. “Evening, Lieutenant.”

  “Corporal.” Kirsten leaned up to peer through a small window.

  Julia Dominguez floated in a tank of peach-colored gel near the back of a modest-sized room. A man in a long brown coat stood with his back to Kirsten, arm thrust into the cylinder, forearm deep in Julia’s chest. His short, black hair dripped blood, which disappeared a few seconds after the pats hit the immaculate white floor. A team of two women and three men in white coats scrambled at various terminals and consoles, shouting at each other, clearly at a loss to explain why Julia’s heart continued failing.

  “I need to get in there right now,” yelled Kirsten.

  The sentry swiped at the wall, opening the door. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Get away from her!” Kirsten shouted as she willed the astral lash into being. Nine feet of scintillating white-blue energy coiled out from her right hand.

  Only one of the medical staff, a guy who looked like a teenager, noticed her, even with the shimmering energy tendril trailing out from her hand.

  The ghost by the medical tank whirled; as she’d seen in Jonah’s memory, his eyes were missing. Twin streaks of blood ran down his cheeks from the empty voids. His torso hung open and vacant, scooped clean of everything. Spine glistened under a layer of connective tissue, and the upper part of his pelvic cradle showed around a shallow puddle of gore.

  As soon as he withdrew his hand, the alarms lessened.

  “Stop,” said Kirsten. “We need to talk.”

  “Whoa.” Evan gulped. “Did he eat a bomb?”

  “Ngh!” roared the ghost. He sprinted left, disappearing into the largest computer core and causing a flurry of warnings to appear on every holo-panel in the room.

  “I just lost nine apps!” yelled a woman. “All nanobots link-dead.”

  “Got it. Failsafes are up.” The youngest medtech forgot about staring at Kirsten and poked a few buttons. “Downtime nine hundredths of a second. Not seeing any appreciable damage.”

  Kirsten darted out and ran along the corridor, pausing by every room to peer in.

  Somewhere behind her, the Military Police Corporal shouted, “Shit!”

  Twenty seconds later, Kirsten skidded to a halt at a four-way intersection. A few old people in hover-chairs gave her suspicious looks. One toothless man grinned at her. An orderly got up from a chair along the hallway at her left and approached. Evan’s glowing nude astral form emerged from the wall into the corridor at her right, as though he’d gone straight through all the rooms, following the spirit. He shot across the opening and went into the next wall.

  Evan! Dammit! She looked around, feeling helpless. People with solid bodies had a distinct disadvantage chasing down a ghost.

  “Can I help you, officer?” asked the orderly. “You look lost.”

  “No. I’m pursuing a suspect. Did you see a ghost go by?”

  He stared at her.

  Evan glided out of the facing wall and floated over to her. “He went outside and flew away. Want me to follow him?”

  Kirsten tapped her power, rendering herself solid to ghosts, and hugged his warm sponginess. “No… I have no idea what that man is capable of. Get back to your body.”

  “Okay.” He grabbed the thin silver cord protruding from between his eyebrows and blurred into a streak of bright yellow light, vanishing back the way they’d come in an instant.

  “Clearly, you got this.” The orderly raised his hands. “I’m out.”

  Kirsten jogged back to the room where Julia floated in the tank. The MP knelt, holding Evan across her lap. He wheezed and gave a thumbs-up.

  “Please tell me this ain’t your partner?” The woman shot Kirsten a horrified-and-somewhat-dirty look.

  “No.” Kirsten looked at her shirt. “Corporal Fuentes. He’s my son, and he’s fine… just trying to help.”

  “By passing out?” The woman lifted him in her arms as she stood. Evan wriggled, trying to get down, but she held on. “I thought he fainted.”

  “I was in pursuit of a paranormal entity. My son is also an astral sensitive, and he thought it would help if he projected out of his body.”

  “Ghosts go through walls,” said Evan.

  “I’m going to have to insist a doctor check on him.” Corporal Fuentes set Evan down on the bench seat outside the door to the procedure room.

  Kirsten tensed. They’re not going to understand those bruises.

  Evan narrowed his eyes and made a face of extreme concentration. Right at the point Kirsten expected him to soil his pants, he stopped and smiled up at her. “It’s okay, Mom.” I fixed it. I’m hungry now.

  “Fine. It’s pointless, but fine. The body goes into a sleeplike state during projection.” Kirsten pushed past the door into the room. “How’s she doing?”

  A woman her height with black hair and a nametag reading Dr. Amy Zhang looked up from a terminal. Bright amber light from the holo-panel saturated her white coat the same color. “Stable. It is peculiar that her symptoms disappeared when you walked in.”

  “Mrs. Dominguez was under attack by a ghost. I have reason to believe the man was murdered by an organ harvester, and logic leads me to believe his heart wound up in your patient.”

  Dr. Zhang frowned. “You just used logic and ghost in the same sentence. I―”

  Kirsten projected a memory of what the ghost looked like into the doctor’s mind. “I really don’t care what you believe in or not. You saw her heart recover as soon as I got here. Did it look like something was crushing it from the outside?”

  “Umm.” Dr. Zhang’s eyes fluttered as she swooned into the desk. She paled. “W-what was that? Wait; don’t answer that. Yes, the real time CT depicted what appeared to be a crushing pressure, though we were unable to figure out what caused the cardiac muscle to contract in that manner.”

  “I need to know where that heart came from.” Kirsten folded her arms.

  Dr. Zhang gestured at the wall. “Not here. We don’t have the records. All I know is that her file shows the transplant surgery was performed at the Easley Military Medical Center. The VA’s main facility near the starport. You’ll have to go there for more information.”

  “Can you at least tell me what happened tonight?” Kirsten rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  “Mrs. Dominguez was brought in partially responsive, suffering what appeared to be acute cardiac arrest. The paramedics attempted to defibrillate, but the unit died.” Dr. Zhang shook her head. “Damn people can’t be bothered to run the daily battery checks.”

  “Pretty sure it’s not their fault. Ghosts tend to drain power.” Ugh. Whoever he is, he’s getting close to killing her. “Doctor, it’s quite possible that this spirit is going to come back and try again. Can you keep her here under observation?”

  “A couple days at most before the lawyers come into play. I can say there’s a high chance of recurrence and we’re keeping her close for treatment in the event of another attack.”

  “Then say it. It’s true. Doesn’t matter what’s causing it.” Kirsten thanked her and walked outside to collect Evan.

  “There’s a doctor waiting for him down the hall,” said Corporal Fuentes.

  “Come on, Mom. Don’t argue. I’m okay. I wanna go home.” He pulled her forward towar
ds the exam room.

  irsten drifted in and out of consciousness, slumped over her desk. Staying awake while watching a terminal run a data-crawl was difficult after a full night’s sleep and coffee. Doing it after four hours of sleep and no coffee had predictable results. Evan had been scheduled for a two-hour visit to the Division 0 medical facility for ‘evaluation’ of paranormal self-injury after school. It comforted her a bit thinking of Captain Eze’s assurance they were only intent on finding out the mechanism of action of how his power inverted, and thankfully, no one had suspicion she had caused his injuries.

  A uniform application of pressure about her skull lifted her head away from her crossed arms, seconds before a hot plastic dome lid pressed into her lips. The essence of strawberry-infused coffee wafted up her nose. Kirsten’s eyes fluttered open and she grabbed the cup. The telekinetic grasp on her head dissipated.

  Nicole walked by with a wave. “Two extra espresso shots in it.”

  Kirsten sipped, eyes closed again, savoring the warmth sliding down her throat. “Thanks. You’re a life―”

  “You get anywhere on that case yet?”

  “―saver. Waiting for the―”

  “Wanna go with me an’ Eddie to a ZB show two weeks from now?”

  Kirsten took her time with four consecutive slow sips. “―Scan to finish. I can’t stand Zombie Ballerinas. Too damn creepy.”

  “Oh, it’s just makeup.” Nicole swiveled around in her chair. “How can costumes freak out the girl that fights demons?”

  Kirsten leaned back in her chair, creaking the springs. “Well, for one thing, roaring with a microphone rammed down your throat isn’t singing. Second, they look like undead children.”

  “Oh.” Nicole cringed. “Yeah, they kinda do… if kids were five foot ten.”

  “Let me know if you ever go to an Antheus Rising show.”

  Nicole gawked. “You do have a thing for redheads.”

  Kirsten propped her head up on one arm, elbow on the desk. “I do not prefer women. She actually sings, and they’re heavier than ZB.”