by Jes Battis
“I don’t know. It’s the size of a dime, though.”
“I wonder if Patrick noticed it.”
“Who’s Patrick?” Rashid asked.
I ignored him. “Do you have him on tape?”
Selena frowned. “Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, sometimes he was moving too fast to be videotaped, so he’s just a blur. And sometimes he seems less than fully material. More like a dense kind of mist. We’ve all seen it, and it’s pretty creepy.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Who’s Patrick?” Rashid asked again.
“You probably don’t want to,” Selena said. “At any rate, we would have told you if he did anything too wild.”
“Did you catch him with any girls?”
Selena nodded.
“Boys?”
She nodded again. “And combinations. Nothing R-rated, though.”
I blinked. “You’re right. I’d really rather not see it.” I turned finally to Rashid. “Let’s go. I’ll try to answer your questions on the way to the lab.”
“Are you going to answer them honestly?”
I looked at Selena. “I’m going to answer them to the best of my ability, in a way that won’t compromise agreements that I made with this organization. Legally and spiritually binding agreements.”
“I’m afraid to ask what that means.”
“It’s really best if you didn’t.”
“Text me when you get there,” Lucian said.
“Thank you, Mr. Agrado. It’s kind of you to be concerned.”
I led Rashid out of Corvid’s building and into the parking lot. He settled into the passenger seat, and I guided us out of the underground garage, merging onto Hornby Street. The night was repeating itself now. Maybe throwing that time bomb at Basuram hadn’t been the smartest move after all. There could always be aftershocks. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a Groundhog Day situation involving a headless demon.
If I was going to repeat any moment in my life, again and again, it would be my first discovery of the salad bar at Bonanza. I could just lie underneath that soft-serve ice-cream dispenser and eat my weight in sundaes.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Rashid asked.
“That depends on your definition of ‘tell you.’ I can give you limited pieces of information that might not make any sense.”
“Limited is better than nothing.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re holding up very well.”
“Thank you. I’ve been in surreal situations before. I’m not entirely sure that this is the craziest one. But it’s in the top three.”
“What was number one?”
“A case of advanced necrotizing fasciitis, in Iraq. An entire village. We had no idea what caused it, but the bones were so porous, it was as if the organic material had been sucked right out of them. What remained—it was like cinders.”
“That’s a terrible outbreak.”
“I didn’t think it was bacterial. But that was when I was still a postgrad at Oxford, and nobody wanted to listen to me. I was just an annoying student yammering on.”
“What did you think caused it? If it wasn’t bacterial, I mean?”
He looked at me. “I wasn’t entirely sure. But I’d never seen bacteria move that fast before. I wanted to write an article on it, in fact. But my supervisor convinced me not to. Five years later, and there’s still no article. Something tells me that no record of the site was ever published.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was published. Just not in a forensic journal that you can access through a common database.”
“How large is this organization that you work for?”
“Large.”
“Multinational?”
“Multidimensional.”
“Right.” He kept his eyes on me. “And you’re not connected to the RCMP or to the Chief Coroner’s Office?”
“We have access to their electronic archives. But socially, we don’t attend the same parties. They’re more or less unaware of our existence.”
“More or less?”
“Well, there are certain liaisons. Certain political inroads. And of course there are also situations like this.”
“You mean a code seven.”
“Yes.” I smiled. “That means ‘Normate on Premises.’ ”
“Normate? Is that what I am?”
“Sometimes we say ‘pedestrians.’ I think that’s mean, though.”
“Is it like a Muggle?”
“Please. No Potter.”
“Sorry.”
“Let’s just say that, in cases when a bystander manages to get involved with one of our investigations, we treat it seriously. Each intrusion is dealt with in the most efficient and humane manner possible.”
“Humane. By my standards, or yours?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“Will you interrogate me?”
“Yes, but as Selena says, you’ll have counsel present.”
“I’m not sure I have any reason to trust one of your lawyers.”
“No. You don’t. But at this point, it’s the best you’re going to get.”
“So—are there other organizations like you in the city? Are you in competition?”
“Not really. I mean, there are satellites. But we’re the only fully equipped and funded occult forensics unit on the West Coast.”
“How long have you been in operation for?”
“I don’t even know. You’d have to ask our archivist, but I doubt you’ll be visiting that level of the building anytime soon.”
“Will you be holding me for the rest of the night?”
“Possibly longer. You’ll be comfortable, though.”
In actual fact, I had no idea where we were putting Rashid. We couldn’t keep him in the interrogation room forever, and he wasn’t going anywhere near Basuram’s neighborhood. I definitely saw the break room couch in his future.
“How often does this happen?” Rashid asked. “I mean, how often does someone like me stumble across one of your operations?”
“More often than you’d think. As I said, we judge every intrusion on a case-by-case basis. Some are more difficult to disentangle than others.”
“Does my case qualify as difficult?”
“I’d go so far as to call it snarly.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Not yet. But the night can always swing both ways.”
“What exactly do you do for them? Are you a field agent?”
“I’m an occult special investigator. It’s mostly fieldwork, but I do know my way around a lab.”
“Should you be telling me this?”
“Possibly not. But you’re going to figure it out in the next few hours, so I’m really just giving you a small head start.”
“By ‘occult,’ do you mean Houdini? Or ritualistic killings?”
“Both. With a bit of Exorcist thrown in.”
“So do you have an explanation for that headless body?”
I turned into the lab’s parking lot. “What sort of explanation are you looking for? The kind that reassures you, or the kind that only further disturbs you?”
“I’d rather be disturbed than ignorant.”
“You aren’t the first person to claim that. Sometimes ignorance can be very useful. It can make your life a lot easier.”
He shrugged. “I deal with ignorance every day. When I’ve got a body opened up and I’m looking at the organs, at the most intensely private part of someone—I try to determine cause of death, but just as often, it’s like hunting for a shadow.”
“Maybe, in those cases, it was simply better for you not to know what killed those people. Maybe the answer wouldn’t have made any sense to you.”
“Medical textbooks are full of things that don’t make sense. But that creature back there—I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“I’d be surprised if you had.
”
“His teeth were real. I mean, they certainly looked real.”
“They’re as real as his nine-inch fingernails.”
“So—I mean—” Rashid looked at me. “That’s not human. That body isn’t animal and it isn’t human. There’s no way.”
I was silent. I pulled into an empty space and turned the engine off.
“Should I run now? It seems like the opportune moment to run, if I was the kind of person who did that sort of thing.”
I stared at him from across the driver’s seat. “I guess you’re right. If you’re going to have a moment, it’s now.”
“I thought so.”
We sat in silence for a while. Then he quietly undid his seat belt and got out of the car. He looked around.
“Isn’t this the parking lot for the HSBC tower?”
“We share space.”
“Are they aware of that?”
“Yes. They’re not the only bank that we deal with.”
“And the police. They must be in the dark?”
“We have people inside. They shield us. Not all the time, as you can see. But generally the system works.”
“I guess that makes me the wrench.”
“Be whatever tool you like. It doesn’t matter to me.”
He followed me as I walked across the parking lot. “I’ve lost my job, you know. Thanks to you and your organization. They’re calling it flexible medical leave, but I’m never getting near an autopsy suite again. I know that.”
“I’m sorry. We can try to grease some wheels, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll ever return to your position.”
“So my career’s over, just like that. Because I met you.”
“I don’t know about your career. But that particular job is over, most likely.”
“I went to one of the finest pathology departments in the world to get that particular job, as you call it. I’m not going to stand idly by while the whole thing collapses in on itself.”
“It may not. I mean, not a real collapse. Maybe it’ll just be more like a lateral implosion, if that makes any sense.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Yeah. Well.” I yawned, holding the elevator door for him. “It’s late. I don’t have a lot to give you right now.”
“I understand. And I appreciate your effort.”
“Why did you make such a fuss about driving alone with me?”
He stepped into the elevator with me.
“I wanted to get to know you better.”
The doors closed. I sighed.
17
“Dr. Rashid, can you state your birthplace?”
He took a sip of water. “Calgary.”
“And were you raised in Alberta?”
“My parents came from Nablus. We went back and forth. I spent several years in the United Kingdom as well.”
“Do you have Palestinian citizenship?”
“Yes. And Canadian.”
“You have a Canadian passport?”
“Yes. I’m a dual national. Would you like to see the paperwork? It took four years to process. They looked at everything, including my father’s transcripts from elementary school in Palestine.”
“Were your grandparents from there as well?”
“My family has lived on the West Bank for over a hundred years. Is this an interview about my ancestry? If it’s to continue, I’d prefer to wait for my advocate. You did say she’d arrive twenty minutes ago.”
Selena shrugged. “It’s odd. She’s not normally late.”
There was a quiet knock. Selena stood and opened the door to the interrogation chamber. “Come in,” she said. “Welcome.”
A snow leopard walked slowly into the room.
“Whoa.” Rashid stood up. He backed away until he was standing against the far wall of the room. “That’s—you know—”
“Stop moving, Dr. Rashid,” Selena said.
He stared at her. “Are you joking? What are you—”
The snow leopard was standing in the middle of the room, looking at him. She wore a braided golden collar with an engraved torque, just beneath her throat. Her eyes were so blue they looked burnished, like metal. They moved up and down Rashid’s body, fixating on his neck.
“This is Latyrix,” Selena said. “Don’t move. She’s your lawyer.”
Perhaps the incredulity of Selena’s comment was such that it actually got Rashid to pause for a moment. He stopped moving. Latyrix noticed this and took a slow step forward. Rashid was a statue now. He could barely move his fingers.
“She just needs to introduce herself. Among her species, introductions are extremely important. And sensitive. They can be life-defining.”
Rashid was breathing quicker, but he didn’t move. He kept his eyes on Latyrix. She had a beautiful silvered nose and black spotting on her head. Her pupils were very large, and her eyes were liquid, smooth in all their movements.
Her whiskers hesitated in the air between them. They were curled and stately, emerging like a kind of lacy textile from the sides of her face. The way each whisker curled up, it almost resembled the collar of a high cape, or a cravat.
Latyrix sniffed along Rashid’s face. Her whiskers dragged against his skin, and he shivered, but didn’t move. She sniffed down his neck.
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her voice came from the amulet, as if from a microphone. It sounded clear, but also slightly grainy. It wasn’t her real voice, but rather the bare tone of her voice without any gestural information factored into it. I thought it sounded sometimes like a book on tape, but it was our most effective mode of communication with the animals who worked in the law court. I mean, really, they designed the law court. Most of the prosecutors weren’t even mammalian, or barely so.
“Doctor,” Selena was saying patiently, “Latyrix is your counsel. We’re recording this session, and if necessary, she’ll be your advocate in court.”
“Is—” He tore himself away from Latyrix, who was still regarding him without any change in expression. “Is your court really run by animals?”
“Not entirely.”
“Falih is scared and disoriented,” Latyrix said. Her voice settled over the room, and we found ourselves going still. “That is the name you go by, correct? Rashid is your—what is the name for it”—she made a low growl in her throat, followed by a flick of her ears—“surname? Namelast?”
“Last name,” Selena said.
“Yes.” Latyrix looked at him for another long moment. Then she settled to her haunches, about a foot away from him. “This floor is cold. You need carpet.”
“I agree, madam. But the floor is designed to be stain-resistant.”
“Of course. You must get a lot of secreters in here.” She looked at Rashid again. “I will call you Falih, if that is all right.”
He nodded slowly. “Call me anything you want.”
“I’m sorry that my appearance makes you nervous. It’s a hard-coded biological response, and it will take you a few moments to work through it.”
I was never quite sure if we were supposed to call animals “sir” and “madam” or not, but I did it out of deference. Mostly, I just copied Selena. But you could tell already how concerned the CORE was about Rashid being a code seven. I’d only seen Latyrix attending a deposition once or twice, but it was widely acknowledged that she was one of the best defense lawyers working for the CORE.
I knew little about the mechanics of occult litigation, save for the fact that panthers usually made the best prosecutors. Although I’d once seen a mink who was very persuasive in his closing arguments.
“Falih,” the snow leopard continued, “it’s important for you to know that you aren’t being held here against your will. There’s no evidence that can keep you here, and Officer Ward can’t simply chain you to the table. You’re free to go.”
She moved her head slightly. “However. As your counsel, I would advise you against leaving. You’re much safer here.”
>
“Is someone going to rip my head off as well?”
“Quite possibly.” Latyrix made a gesture that might have been a shrug. “Like it or not, you’ve blundered your way into a very serious situation. You’ve seen things that you shouldn’t have. There’s a mark of contagion on you now, and others will be able to sense it. Others will then be able track you.”
He stared at her. “Who are these others?”
“The type of thing powerful enough to do what you saw in that office. The type of thing that makes even me nervous. Understand?”
He nodded. “I still don’t fully believe that we’re talking, though. I mean, I understand that I’m hearing your voice, or a voice; I don’t know. I understand you. But I think I may also be hallucinating. Someone could have easily put something in this water. GHB, LSD, or a combination of the two.”
“You aren’t drugged and you aren’t dreaming.” Latyrix looked at him. “You’re not supposed to be here, talking to us. But you are. We can’t do anything about it. What we can do is figure out a solution that works for everyone.”
“You really do kind of sound like a lawyer.”
“That’s because I am a lawyer. I have been my whole life.”
“But—I mean—” He blinked. “You can forgive me for being skeptical, right? A talking leopard?”
“You think animals have no language?” She regarded him calmly, her eyes very still. “It’s true, we have very little reason to talk to hominids like yourself. But for some of us, the situation demands it. As long as you manipulate the natural world, some of us have to live among you, to keep watch.”
“Animals have always been involved in our justice system,” Selena told him. “It may be hard for you to understand. But we’re immensely grateful for the help and expertise that they offer us.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Rashid shook his head. “Why not just shoot me full of drugs and leave me in my bed, at home? You made me forget once. I’m sure you could do it again.”
“The procedure was imperfect,” Selena replied. “It didn’t take. You’re risking brain damage if we attempt it again, and I can’t allow that. So we have to do this properly, through the correct legal channels.”
“Correct legal channels.” Rashid closed his eyes. “I’m in an interrogation room, talking to a wild animal.”
