Incarnation

by Kevin Hardman

  Great, I thought. She reveres Incarnates so much that she can’t –

  “However,” Sayo continued, catching me off guard, “I found her to be” — she hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the proper word — “pleasant. Congenial. I liked her. Her death is a real blow.”

  Reaching out empathically, I picked up on feelings of sadness and melancholy. Sayo’s grief, while not overwhelming, was definitely real.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to give her a sympathetic pat on the hand. “Any idea how she died?”

  She shook her head. “No one knows.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I acknowledged. “But there have to be rumors or speculation.”

  “The only thing anyone is certain of is that another Incarnate must have done it,” she stated, then gave me an odd look. “Why are you so interested in this subject?”

  My first instinct was to sidestep the question, but then it occurred to me that she’d find out soon enough.

  “It’s why I’m here,” I stated. “To find out who killed her.”

  Sayo’s face suddenly took on a slightly nervous expression. At the same time, I felt a slight twinge of anxiety emanating from her.

  “Well,” she said, coming to her feet, “we should be getting back.”

  “Ah, sure,” I muttered, standing as well.

  Sayo started heading for the door, with me right on her heels. Moments later, we were back in the main living room.

  Seeing us approach, Mariner and Rune appeared to wrap up their conversation, with the former rising from the couch. Much to my surprise, I noticed that when he vacated his seat, the moisture seemingly left with him. Rather than having a large wet spot on it where Mariner had been seated, the couch appeared to be as dry as it had been before he sat.

  “Please keep me posted,” Mariner said to Rune, who simply nodded. Seemingly satisfied, Mariner turned to me.

  “Nice meeting you, Jim,” he said. “Hopefully you won’t find the job of being Rune’s laamuffal too onerous.”

  A moment later, he and Sayo simply vanished, leaving no evidence — not even a drop of water — that they’d ever been present.

  Chapter 7

  “There’s that word again,” I said after our two visitors were gone. “Laamuffal. You’ll be happy to know that I’ve found out what it means, no thanks to you.”

  Rune’s eyebrows rose momentarily in surprise, and then I saw understanding dawn in his eyes.

  “Sayo,” he muttered.

  “Yeah,” I stated with a nod.

  “So what did she say?”

  “Enough for me to figure out that a laamuffal is basically a sycophant.”

  “Whoa,” he grumbled. “That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think?”

  “No,” I replied, shaking my head adamantly. “Harsh is your fellow Incarnate brainwashing a young girl into thinking that waiting on him hand and foot is her divine purpose.”

  “She’s not young,” Rune shot back.

  “What?” I blurted out, not sure what he was talking about.

  “Sayo,” he clarified. “She was born in Japan over two thousand years ago, contrary to your theory about being young and brainwashed.”

  “So he took her from a time period and culture where women were already subservient,” I noted. “In essence, he didn’t have to do any brainwashing. Society had already done it for him.”

  Rune seem to bristle at this. “Well, while you’re up on your high horse, you might want to consider the fact that serving an Incarnate has resulted in her being gifted with an incredibly long life, as well as seeing wonders that most people have never even imagined.”

  “Oh, so instead of living only a single lifetime of indentured servitude — say, fifty years — she should be turning cartwheels that she got to serve for forty of them?”

  “What is this, some new superpower you’ve developed?” Rune practically demanded. “The ability to twist pros into cons, and recast positive attributes as negative traits? Because I swear, it was not on your résumé.”

  We stared at each other for a moment — and then both burst out laughing. Although the conversation had seemed to be getting heated, it was pretty clear that neither of us was taking it too seriously.

  “Look,” Rune said, after taking a few moments to compose himself. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I brought you here to be Sherlock Holmes, not Susan B. Anthony. So put away the suffrage bonnet and put on your detective hat.”

  “Fine,” I said. “By the way, here’s a question that’s been bugging me: why me?”

  Rune’s brow furrowed. “Why you what?”

  “How’d you settle on me to help you with this? I mean, I can follow the logic of you guys needing a hand because — due to your powers — you don’t think the right way for detective work. But why not just scoop up a real detective for this stuff — some cop who’s been working homicide for twenty years and has well-honed instincts about murder and suspects? Or better yet, why not someone like Mouse?”

  At the thought of him, I reflected on the fact that Mouse would probably be perfect for this. He was not only the leader of the Alpha League (as well as my League-assigned mentor), but he was quite possibly the smartest man who ever lived. He’d probably have solved Gamma’s murder in an hour.

  “It would take a regular detective forever just to get up to speed on the concept of Incarnates, let alone things like this place being outside of space and time — assuming he could wrap his mind around them. You, on the other hand, already had basic knowledge about Incarnates, you’ve been to places like this before, and–”

  “A place,” I interjected. “I’ve been to a place like this before.”

  “Still, that’s more than most others can say.”

  “So I’ve got the requisite background and experience,” I summed up.

  “Yes,” he said with a nod. “In addition, we’re dealing with a murderous Incarnate. Thus, even if we rounded up an experienced detective, there would be concern about his welfare.”

  “You mean that the guilty party might kill him if he started getting too close.”

  “In a nutshell.”

  “But you people are Incarnates,” I stressed. “Wouldn’t you be able to protect him?”

  “Did you forget that one of us has been killed?” he asked. “Apparently we can’t even protect ourselves.”

  “So you need someone with powers,” I deduced.

  “We prefer someone with powers,” he corrected.

  “Does that even matter?” I asked. “Is having powers going to protect them from a killer Incarnate?”

  “Probably not,” Rune admitted. “But we’d like to think we’re not just setting up a turkey shoot.”

  “Is that why you struck Mouse off the list?” I asked. “Because he lacks superpowers?”

  “Ha!” Rune bellowed, letting out a bark of laughter. “Mouse has powers, and they make him formidable. However, he’s busy with another issue.”

  His statement caused me to raise an eyebrow. Mouse and I had just finished dealing with a matter involving a clone of me shortly before I’d allowed Rune to whisk me away. I found it bothersome that another problem had seemingly landed on his doorstep almost immediately — then almost laughed at the irony, considering that the same thing had essentially happened to me. (I shelved for later discussion the comment about Mouse’s powers, although it was the most intriguing thing Rune had said due to the fact that I’d never seen Mouse exhibit any abilities I’d define as “super.”)

  “Okay,” I said, “even with Mouse off your short list, why not go with a full-fledged member of the Alpha League instead of someone like me, who’s just a part of the teen affiliate? Alpha Prime, for instance.”

  Rune shook his head. “He may be the most powerful superhero on Earth and generally a good guy, but your old man’s not right for this.”

  I fought hard to hide my surprise. Although Alpha Prime was — as Rune stated — widely hailed as the most powerful
super on the planet, not many people knew he was my father. I was tempted to ask Rune how he knew, but decided to hold my tongue.

  “Basically,” he went on, “the issue with using Alpha Prime in this instance — just about any League member, in fact — is that it presents the same problem as having us Incarnates investigate: lack of the proper skills.”

  I pondered on this for a moment, and then the answer came to me.

  “Mouse,” I said flatly.

  “Bingo,” Rune uttered with a nod. “That guy has been the brains of the League for the past few years — the researcher, the battle tactician, the investigator, the problem-solver…”

  “So what are you saying?” I asked. “That the rest of the League’s gone stupid?”

  “No,” he said, laughing. “Far from it. I’m just saying that, on the whole, their problem-solving skills have gone to pot. You, on the other hand, have displayed an innate ability to solve mysteries, as well as a talent for thinking on your feet — not to mention the fact that you’ve got a wide array of superpowers.”

  “Which still may not be enough to keep me from getting killed,” I added sarcastically.

  “Hmmm,” Rune mumbled. “Apparently I need to add ‘pessimist’ to your list of attributes.”

  Chapter 8

  We left our suite a few minutes after Rune finished explaining to me why I was the right man to investigate Gamma’s death. Personally, I wasn’t convinced, but I was willing to give it the old college try.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we walked through a wide castle hallway.

  “The Cosmos Corridor,” he answered. “And before you ask, it’s easier to show it to you than explain it.”

  “That’s fine,” I replied. “Any reason we’re trudging through the castle instead of you just taking us there?”

  Rune cast a quick glance in my direction. “You’re thinking about Mariner — the way he and Sayo left our suite.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted with a nod. “Seems like you Incarnates would dispense with the drudgery of parading around on foot most of the time.”

  “Wow,” Rune practically lamented. “You must view Incarnates as incredibly lazy.”

  “Not lazy,” I protested. “I just assumed you’d do what was most efficient.”

  My companion shook his head solemnly. “You ever heard the expression, ‘the journey is part of the destination’?”

  “I think so — or at least something like it. It sort of means that if you focus only on the destination, you miss out on things along the way.”

  “Well, that essentially sums up my feelings on the subject,” he intoned. “Besides, the Cosmos Corridor falls under the purview of another Incarnate, so just appearing out of thin air would be rude.”

  “I take it that’s why Mariner came through the front door when he arrived at our suite.”

  “Correct,” Rune said with a nod. “Leaving, on the other hand, is kind of left to your discretion.”

  “So that means we’ll just be disappearing when we depart someone’s company?”

  “Maybe,” Rune admitted. “And that reminds me: much of what you see around here and witness Incarnates do is going to be thaumaturgy. The magical and mystical run rampant here, so not everything will be logical. However, there won’t be a bunch of chants, incantations, and stuff like that. It’ll just happen.”

  “Wait a minute,” I protested. “I’ve seen you do incantations before.”

  “Theatrics. If you’re a magician, people expect and want a show, so sometimes I give it to them.”

  “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m not well-versed in spells, enchantments, and stuff. Maybe you should have recruited a wizard to help you instead.”

  “Nah,” Rune stressed, shaking his head. “We’re in good hands with you.”

  *****

  We spent the next few minutes walking in relative silence, finally coming to a halt in front of a black door that had a field of stars painted on it. A moment later, I found myself doing a double take as I realized something unusual about the door: the stars on it were twinkling. Seconds later, something like a comet shot across the field of view being shown. It suddenly dawned on me that the door wasn’t painted, but somehow represented a “live” view of some region of outer space.

  Incredulous, I turned toward Rune and found him grinning broadly.

  “I know — it’s a lot to take in when you first see it,” he said, plainly amused by my surprise. “Come on.”

  With that, he stepped through the door — literally. Basically, he didn’t bother opening it; instead, he just stepped into the field of stars and vanished.

  Still recovering from my amazement regarding the image on the door, I quickly followed Rune’s lead and walked through the door.

  Chapter 9

  We found ourselves in a room that, to be frank, really appeared to be a continuation of the door. We were completely enveloped by darkness, punctuated by a random scattering of small, glimmering lights — stars. They were all around us: above, beside, below. Moreover, they seemed to extend infinitely in all directions, even beneath our feet. (Which brought to mind another question: what the heck were we standing on?)

  Using the term “we” however, was a bit of a misnomer, as I couldn’t see anything other than the stars around me. That said, I could sense someone empathically, although I immediately realized that it wasn’t Rune. Remembering that there was a murderer on the loose, I quickly — almost in a panic — cycled my vision through the light spectrum until I could see somewhat akin to normally.

  Rune, as expected, was a few feet away from me. Also nearby was the source of the emotions I’d felt — a young woman.

  She was about five-foot-eight, attractive, and seemed to be in her early twenties (although apparent age around here obviously meant nothing). Her hair, short and dark, was worn in a layered style that appeared messy but actually framed her face in an appealing way. Finally, she wore something like a jumpsuit that shimmered slightly, although not as brightly as the stars around us.

  “The Inscrutable Rune,” she uttered with a smile, heading toward my companion.

  “Ursula,” he said, stepping forward and giving the woman a quick hug.

  “Who’s your friend?” Ursula asked, gesturing toward me. “He’s cute.”

  She followed up her comment with a wink and a smile, making me blush.

  “This is Jim,” Rune said. “Jim, say hello to Ursula.”

  I stepped forward and extended my hand, saying, “Nice to meet you.”

  “Bump that,” Ursula declared, playfully smacking my hand away. “I’m a hugger.”

  With that, she stepped in close and gave me a firm embrace that probably straddled the line between platonic and something more. Caught flat-footed, I returned the gesture by putting my hands delicately on her shoulders.

  After a few seconds, Ursula stepped back and eyed me critically.

  “Your hugs are pathetic,” she declared. “We’re going to work on that.”

  Unsure of how to respond, I reached out empathically and picked up on feelings of kindness and affability, as well as a highly sociable demeanor — but nothing overtly romantic. A moment later, the truth hit me, and I almost laughed: Ursula was just a big flirt.

  “I look forward to it,” I said to her with a grin. “I could use the practice.”

  She smiled back, and appeared to be on the verge of making an additional comment when Rune spoke up.

  “So,” he droned, getting Ursula’s attention. “Is she around?”

  Ursula nodded. “Yes. She stepped out for a moment, but should be back momentarily.” Without warning, Ursula then tilted her head to the side, as if listening for something. “In fact, right…about…now.”

  Perfectly in sync with Ursula’s verbal cue, a woman appeared in the room, essentially out of nowhere. I found myself staring at her intently. She was the most alluring woman I’d ever seen.

  Chapter 10

  She was tall — at least
my height, and maybe an inch or so taller (which would have put her at six-one). Her large, doe-like eyes were a mesmerizing violet in color, framed by long, thick lashes and punctuated by immaculately-manicured eyebrows. She had lips that were full and pouty, along with a flawless complexion that was bronze in color. In addition, she had a perfectly-proportioned hourglass figure, on which she currently sported a form-fitting, one-piece bodysuit.

  As I continued looking her over, I kept finding more complimentary features: a too-cute nose, a graceful neckline, etcetera. Truth be told, the list of her attributes went on endlessly. It was as though every textbook indicator of feminine beauty and allure — from large eyes to glowing skin to long legs — had been wondrously combined into a single package. Her most striking feature, however, was the fact that she was completely and absolutely bald, without a single strand of hair on her head. Oddly enough, the lack thereof only made her that much more fascinating.

  “Hey, you want to put your eyes back in your head?”

  I blinked, snapping out of my reverie as I realized that Rune had just spoken to me.

  “Huh?” I murmured, trying to get my thoughts organized.

  “You’re practically drooling,” Rune chided.

  The woman who had just appeared laughed, her mirth sounding absolutely melodic.

  “Leave him alone, Rune,” she said, smiling as she walked toward us. “He’s not hurting anyone.”

  Rune let out an annoyed groan in response, but didn’t say anything. A moment later, the new arrival stopped in front of us, then leaned forward to give my companion a hug, which he returned. A moment later, she stepped back and turned in my direction. After taking a quick glance at me, she looked back at Rune expectantly.

  “Oh, sorry,” Rune muttered a few seconds later. Having realized what was expected of him, he quickly made introductions, giving the woman’s name as Endow.

  “Endow is the leader of the Incarnates,” he explained.

  “Not true,” Endow protested. “We don’t have a leader.”

  “First among equals, then,” Rune countered, which Endow didn’t protest.