“Enough talk, smart guy,” said rodent eyes, waving his pistol. “Get down on your knees.”
“Fuck you, rat face,” said Jude in a loud voice. His legs felt weak enough to make him fall to the position they wanted him in. But he would be damned if he would die on his knees.
“That's OK,” said amulet bearer, pulling out a silencer and screwing it on to the end of his pistol. “On your feet, on your knees. Makes no difference to me. Be defiant. In a few seconds you'll just be meat.”
The man finished attaching the silencer and aimed his pistol at Jude's stomach. Jude could feel his testicles crawling up into his body. They were going to gut shoot him and leave him here to groan his life out. One of the worst ways he could think of dying, and it was going to happen to him. The energy was built up in his body. He could fling a spell at one of them, knock that man down, and fling himself at one of the remaining. He would still be shot down, but that would force them to shoot to kill. He tensed his muscles as he watched amulet bearer begin to squeeze the trigger of his weapon, a pleasant smile on his face.
* * *
No, thought Richard Guffy, looking around the corner of the alley at the deadly tableau. He's mine. I've waited so long.
He waited a little longer, listening to the conversation between his target and the men who had him trapped. I don't believe it, he thought, his mind reeling at the implications. Parkinson was not the enemy. Here was the enemy in front of him, threatening the man who might just be able to topple the present assholes. And maybe take them out of power.
I can't let this happen, thought Guffy, stepping out into the open and raising his pistol. I can't let this go down like this.
“Everyone freeze,” he yelled at the top of his lungs, using the volume to overcome the fear of facing down three armed Secret Policemen. “Don't fucking move or I'll shoot.” What he didn't expect was for two of the men to spin, aim and fire as the words were leaving his mouth. Bullets cracked by his head. He started pulling on his own trigger as fast as possible, sending bullets at the men.
* * *
As soon as the other two men turned and started to fire at whomever had come out of nowhere, Jude made his move. He said the power word and sent a ball of force into amulet bearer, just as that man pulled the trigger. The bullet got caught up in the energy field and was shoved off course. It clipped fabric from Jude's coat and wrote a line of fire across his ribs. Jude grunted and clapped a finger to his side as he watched amulet bearer hit the wall hard, his eyes unfocused and the gun falling from his hand.
The other two men continued to fire at the intruder. One yelled out as he was hit in his non-dominate shoulder. The other continued to fire. The intruder screamed and the incoming fire stopped. The man glanced back at the leader, started as he saw that man down, and swung his gun around to attempt to track Jude.
Jude put a round in the man's head before he could complete the turn. The man fell bonelessly into rodent eyes, who staggered against the wall. Jude turned back to amulet bearer and put a round in the man's face, watching as his features dissolved under the impact of the heavy forty-five. Turning back to rodent eyes he put two shots into the man's chest while he tried to struggle up under the body of his partner.
Don't want to be caught here and have to answer questions, thought Jude, while he squatted down over amulet bearer and removed him of that artifact. He put the object in his pocket, then put his hand under his shirt to feel his wound. The fingers came out with a trace of blood, and he realized that it was the definition of a flesh wound. I was really lucky, this time, he thought, absolving that he would not be caught flat footed again.
Hurrying to the turn in the alley, he looked down at the man who had become his savior. I know you, he thought, looking at the face that stared with open eyes under a large wound to the forehead. You thought me a murderer, then came to my rescue.
Jude hesitated a moment more, till the voices from the street reached him. He looked up to see a crowd gathering at the mouth of the alley. He pulled his hat down low over his face and ran forward, waving his gun. People moved out of the way, shouting and screaming. Jude hit the sidewalk running, making his way to the next cross street and tucking his gun back into its holster. I've got more ammo this time, he thought as he slowed to a stop and tried to blend in, listening to the sirens growing nearer. He patted a coat pocket, where resided a whole box of big slugs. This time he was loaded for dinosaur.
Chapter Fourteen
The stadium was not really packed, which made it fairly easy to get a ticket. The large bowl shaped structure could easily seat seventy thousand people, but most games of La Crossa only attracted fifty thousand or so paying customers. Even with the Central Barracudas in first place in the Metro League. Those with the time and the money of course attended the games. Even members of the Mages Council, who sat in their individual boxes well separated from other Council members.
At least Jude was hoping that a certain Council member was attending this game, as he made his way through the stadium open seating, trying to get the best vantage point for his purposes. Ugly black clouds were building up on the other side of the stadium, lightning flashing as the storm moved off the water and over the city. Then the clouds struck the energy barrier over the stadium and flowed around it, lightning striking at the shield and helping to energize it.
A lot of magical energy to waste on a sporting event, thought Jude, watching as the storm moved around and enveloped the barrier. It was probably enough to light the entire city for a week, all so the idle masses could watch a game in comfort.
Jude found a good seat just as the two teams ran out onto the large field. The Barracudas wore the silver-blue armor with the animal’s symbol on their helmets, sticks flying the pennants of the team. The Cougars wore a brown uniforms with stick pennants of a growling cat. Thirty players ran to each side of the field, circled up, and sent fifteen of their number onto the field from each team.
The crowd began to make some noise now, the partisans of the Barracudas, forty thousand strong, out shouted the ten thousand Cougars who had followed their team from uptown. The captains lined up in the center circle. The umpire tossed the ball in the air and the two captains ran at each other, swinging their sticks, the basket ends reaching for the ball. The Cougar’s Captain snatched the ball out of the air and swung his stick, firing the projectile to a team member running down the field. The Barracuda’s Captain saw he was not going to get the ball and rammed his shoulder in the Cougar’s Captain, knocking him to the ground and ruining his aim. A Barracuda ran into the path of the ball and snatched it, then tossed it to another team member as they worked their way down the long field.
The crowd came to its feet at the same time a lightning bolt struck one of the attractor rods outside the stadium. The Barracuda player flung the ball at the center net held open by a three foot wide hoop at the top of the six foot pole. The goalie reacted the wrong way, toward one of the hoops on either side of the center, then tried to correct. The ball flew into the hoop and the crowd roared, another lightning bolt struck, and the heavy rain pattered against the shield around the stadium.
The Shadows'll be out in this mess, thought Jude, looking up and out into the dark skies. The city would still be well lit, but the rain would attenuate it some, and single globes might blow out here and there from a surge. People were known to disappear in storms, and Jude hoped that it didn't happen to anyone he knew. Well, maybe some of them, he thought with an evil smile.
The crowd sat back down, the rumble of noise continuing as people talked over the play. Jude felt a slight buzz of excitement himself. In his younger years he used to play the game, though never at this level. And he had been a fanatical adherent to the sport, until the death of his wife made things like entertainment lose their importance. He focused his attention back on the private box of Lucius Daemon, twenty rows down and a hundred or so seats to the left, right on the center line and the prime spot.
Jude watched the two
men in the box, Lucius and another man who looked like a prominent businessman or government official. He could see some of their faces from the angle, but not enough to really get a read of their lips. There were spells to eavesdrop, but they all left a magical signature that an experienced mage could detect. Unless there was too much energy in the air to make the detection of a low power spell obvious, and the targets weren’t looking for such a spell. Such as in a packed stadium.
Jude cleared his mind and called up the words of the spell, repeating them to himself over and over. He hoped that the people sitting next to him didn’t freak out when they realized he was casting a spell. Most people did not dabble in magic in public, except for simple spells like those that would light cigarettes or pipes, or contact associates or loved ones. His was more involved, and spells like that could mean harm. As he said the spell for the fourth time he opened his eyes and stared down at the targets. He concentrated on them, concentrated on hearing them, and the noise of the stadium faded into the background.
“What a play,” said the man sitting next to Lucius. The crowd noise overwhelmed him for a moment and Jude missed what he said next.
“Barrett is quite the scorer,” said Lucius.
Damn, thought Jude, shaking his head. Is this all I’m going to hear about? Sports chatter.
“So how much energy are we going to get from this place?” asked the other man. Jude’s ears picked up. This sounded like what he was interested in.
“Well, there has to be a hundred million of them on that planet,” said Daemon in a low voice. “That’s about six hundred million life units. I think we can harvest them for decades, if not a century.”
“My people will be glad to hear that,” said the other man, his head nodding. “We can only send you so many prisoners, no matter how you change the laws. A lot of people have been scared straight, so that source is actually decreasing.”
“I’ve noticed you haven’t sent us as many of the cast aways either,” said Lucius. “We’ve been wondering about that.”
“It’s not that they're not out there,” said the man, “it’s just hard to…”
The crowd roared again at a great play, and the Barracuda’s scored again. Jude cursed as the noise overwhelmed his spell. Jude said a few words and sent more power into the connection. The man with Daemon must have felt something, because he turned and looked over the crowd behind him. Jude let out a small gasp as he recognized the face, which was distinctive even from the distance. Karl Jallisco, a powerful mage himself and head of the Magara, the Secret Police.
“That boy Stark you lent us has really panned out,” said Daemon, who then looked closely at his partner. “What is it?”
“Someone is listening to us,” said Jallisco, turning in his seat.
Oh shit, thought Jude, ducking down so he was hidden by the people sitting in front of him. I would have to listen in on a mage who was an expert on surveillance. He let the spell drop and pretended that he was trying to find something under the seat, trying to legitimatize his behavior to the people around him. After a few moments he looked back up, ready to duck again. He looked across and into the box and it was empty, the two men gone.
Jude pulled his pocket watch and saw that it was about noon. The game would play out over the next two hours, but he had things to do that had nothing to do with pleasure. He thought about going into the station, maybe seeing if he could search the archives and files. He dismissed that thought as soon as he had it. The Secret Police were looking for him. Daemons personal goons were looking for him. He did not need to make it easy for them. He got up and made his way through the crowd, apologizing when he hit knees. While he made his way out of the stadium, the Cougars scored and the crowd roared again.
I wonder what he meant about cast aways? thought Jude, crouching under his umbrella on his way to the elevated station. He didn’t like the thoughts that term engendered, and hoped he was wrong.
* * *
Not many people had Jasper Burns, Archbishop of Manhat, as their personal confessor. Sarah Stranger was not most people. Her father was high in the Church, the Primate of one of the most successful of the Church Missions. And Burns was a personal friend of Gerald Stranger, who had asked him to look out for his little girl in the big city.
“He is a good man, Bishop,” said Sarah, her eyes pleading with the Bishop.
“He is not a member of the Church,” answered Burns, holding his hands out. “I am not sure your father would approve.”
“It is not forbidden,” said Sarah, looking away for a moment. “His first wife was a Church member.”
“And she was not able to convert him,” said Burns with a frown playing across his face. “I knew him, and his wife. She was very devout, while he continued to dabble in forbidden magic.”
“He uses magic for a good cause,” she said in a pleading voice, putting a hand on the Bishop's arm. “He uses it to catch criminals of the worst kind. Murderers, rapists, those who would steal the lives and dignity from their fellow men.”
“I don't say that the man is evil,” said Burns, looking Sarah in the eyes while he picked up his cup of tea and frowned when he discovered it empty.
“I'll get you some more, Bishop,” said Sarah, standing up and taking the cup, walking to the credenza on which sat the steaming pot. She poured a fresh cup while Burns sat there thinking.
I'm sure that Sarah is a good judge of character, thought the Archbishop, watching the beautiful young woman, the daughter of his best friend. I'm also sure that her feelings are leading, and judgment is taking a distant second.
“I'm not saying the man is evil,” said Burns as Sarah carried the cup back and placed it on the side table by the chair. “I am sure he is a good man. But he also supports the system that we oppose. The system that is sucking the life from this world. The life that the Good God put into this world in the first place. His practice of magic adds to that burden.”
He raised his hand as she started to speak. “I know what you were going to say. That he is such a small part of that drain. But he is part of it nonetheless.”
“I do not need my father's approval,” said Sarah, her expression defiant. “I am an adult, and can do what I please.”
“True,” said Burns, shrugging his shoulders. “You can go against the wishes of the Church of God Ascendant. Against the wishes of your father. Against the Good God himself. Do you truly wish to do this?”
“No, Bishop,” she said after a moment's hesitation. She stood up, then fell to her knees in front of the Bishop, her hand held clasped to her front. “I do not. But I have prayed to the Good God every night. I know in my heart that this is the man for me.”
“If you can get him to renounce magic,” said the Bishop, using a tone that one would use with a child. “If he can see clear to join the Church, to pledge his loyalty to our cause, I am sure that we can get everyone to agree, to give their blessings.”
“And what about the battle he finds himself in,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “He already takes on the Daemon Corporation in his search for the truth. His life is in danger.”
“And your life with it, if you continue to befriend him.”
“I can do nothing else,” she cried. “I can do nothing else.”
“Then perhaps we can see where the Church might be of help,” he said, laying hands on her head. “I can promise nothing,” he continued when she looked up with hope in her eyes. “I will call a council, and we will discuss this matter. And the matters of the world. Perhaps it is time that we joined this struggle, so that others might live.”
“Thank you, Bishop,” said Sarah, getting to her feet and rubbing a sleeve across her face. “I must see to the children now.”
“They continue to come, don't they?” asked the Bishop, picking up his cup.
“They continue to come,” she agreed, sniffling. “We run out of room, but how can we turn them away when their parents are gone.”
“We cannot,” he agreed, no
dding his head. “We must do what we can, and trust to the Good God to do the rest.”
Sarah nodded her head, then turned away and started to walk from the comfortable study, glancing over for a minute at the numerous books on the far shelves.
“Sarah,” said Burns. She turned as he took a sip from his cup and set it back on the table. “The end of this world of magic is near. I too have prayed to the Good God. And he has placed an answer in my mind. Our time is soon come.”
Sarah smiled back at him and nodded, then turned away and walked from the room.
Chapter Fifteen
The car pulled up to the large townhouse that stood on a hill overlooking the large public park. Macodemus Daemon waited for the chauffeur to open his door, then left the luxurious back seat of the limo. He ignored the driver, as he always did, thinking the man no more important than any other piece of furniture. And less valuable than most.
What a beautiful night, thought the son of Lucius Daemon, looking up at the star flecked sky, then down the hill to the light reflecting off the lake in the park. He wondered for a moment about what the sky looked like in those places where the night did not have to be lit up so brightly. Not that he was anxious to visit such a place. He would probably be fighting for his life while he was there, too busy to look at lights in the sky.
The forty-six year old was slightly taller than his father, and much more muscular, an avid calisthenics and running enthusiast. He was also a powerful mage, much more so than any of his brothers and sisters. He always had to watch out for them while they were trying to climb the corporate ladder behind him. As Chief Operating Officer of Daemon Corp, only his father was ahead of him. That would be the case until the old man died, an event he for which he couldn’t wait. An event he would have to wait for, since he wasn’t ready to do something that might backfire on him, given his father’s power.
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