Verrigent caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and smirked. He was trying to be calm, relaxed, not show his emotions - and as he was a thin, blue-skinned man with bat wings most people were to distracted with his appearance to read his emotions. However, his eyes still held the reddish tinge that told the knowledgeable he was upset.
His parents’ brilliant ideas of a perfectly engineered child were ones he had questioned over the years. Since he was about six, actually, and wondered why most of the other parent’s children were so different.
“It’s nice,” Verrigent said politely. “I’m glad your friend lent it to me.
“Yeah, well, he’s er, out, and I knew … What’s wrong.”
For a second, Verrigent felt the cold chill of his privacy invaded. Jade had slowly gotten better at reading him, even with their limited contact. Something about her somehow made him vulnerable and easy to read, much to his surprise.
It also explained more than he wished.
“I am not,” Verrigent sat on his bed. “I do appreciate the opportunity, Xianfu, Donovan, and myself are still finding lodging difficult to acquire.”
“Yeah, and you’re avoiding the subject, Verrigent.” Jade gave him a sympathetic look.
“I am. I am sorry. You’re going to ask if I want to talk about it, don’t you? That’s what he’d do?”
Jade sat next to the winged man. He could tell she was keeping some distance between him - a recall of some failed dates flew through his head. He forced it out of his mind. The past was the past.
“He being HuanJen?” the Vulpine asked.
Verrigent said nothing. Jade reached out, hesitated, then patted him on the knee.
“Hey, trying to help, I …”
“I’m considering leaving Xai. Giving up being an Outrider.” Verrigent felt the words tumble out of his mouth before he caught himself, then laughed. “Yes, you are indeed his student.”
“I …” Jade recovered from the shock of the revelation. “Leaving? What about Donovan and Xianfu?”
Verrigent picked his words carefully, not wanting to seem insensitive to his partners. You had to be careful with Jade, despite a pleasant and caring nature she didn’t know she had, she did have a bit of a temper the same way a volcano was a tad hot.
“They will be fine. They’re good men, good reputations. Xianfu wouldn’t be … seeing your friend Lorne if he was unconfident in his future. He’ll also stay by Donovan. I am merely tired of coming home to discover more chaos than anything else.”
“Well, hell, do something,” Jade remarked. “I mean, no offense, Verrigent, but if you don’t like it, do something. I mean if you’d been involved with the Greenpole City Council, maybe you could have helped things there.”
“Eh, perhaps.” Verrigent scowled. Greenpole had gone from a respected private community to a mess of infrastructure problems in less than a year. The various Guild intrigues had not helped the situation. He paid his taxes, he wanted his money’s worth.
“Um … look, let’s drop this.” Jade finally spoke. “You can crash here until Thursday, relax, raid Brandon’s fridge, and it’ll probably cheer you up.”
“Yes, I suppose. Jade, may we change the subject. Please?”
The Vulpine nodded, and gestured futilely. “Sure. Enjoy meeting the gang again.
“Yes. I … who was that young man with the blond hair at the Nax tonight?”
“Kevin Anderson, Green’s old apprentice. He’s not around a lot, he kinda got into Guild politics. It’s sort of a sore point with HuanJen and me. Well, maybe just me. You get the idea.”
“I see.” Verrigent felt his always-tiny reserve of small talk give out. He was a practical person and rarely saw the need for pointless conversation. Social, yes, pointless, no. Life was too short, and he was aware of its brevity, that awareness increasing every year and with every mission.
“You’re gonna be all right, aren’t you, Verrigent?”
Her compassion was palatable. This was the woman, who he had met in a Cross-storm, a mouthy statue of fur and attitude. Seeing Lorne and Xianfu made him wonder …
… and no, his life was what it was. And hers was what it was.
“I’ll do my best.” Verrigent sighed. “I’m tired.”
“We all are,” Jade acknowledged. “Well, some of us. But things, I think will get better. And if they won’t, I’ll bash ‘em into shape.”
“Never have I heard the word ‘bash’ used in such a reassuring way, Jade …”
And how will we know of the results?
“That is my area. We shall see them. Secrets are unseen, unregarded. Like rain they’ll erode away mountains.”
Hmmmm. I preferred the direct approach.
“This is my area. Trust me. I … you seem rather interested in what I am doing, Jack.”
Ah. Yes. What can I say. I’ve always been a people person. And . .
“Soon. Soon.”
April 6, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
“… hello, by the way HuanJen …”
“Miss Shalesdaughter, hello…”
Jade tried to shut her rather sensitive ears as she and HuanJen walked down Ralleigh Way, the street that held the Crosspoint apartment complex. If you left at the right time of the day, you could be expected to be accosted by people. It was part of being a Zone Cleric, but it made a simple trip to Chin’s very difficult.
How are you, what about the city, how do you think the vote will turn out, I’m nervous, I loved that service you did …
She had the strangest feeling of being hemmed in. Yes, it was part of her job to help, to listen. But as of late she felt overwhelmed. Even the friendly comments got to her. HuanJen had a strange talent for avoiding people when he needed to, but rarely seemed to invoke it, even though now would be a good time …
“Jade?”
The Vulpine’s conciseness collected and focused on the present. HuanJen’s voice was the only one directed at her. He had a way of avoiding people when needed.
“Sorry.” Jade managed a weak grin. “I zoned out.”
“A defensive reaction, no doubt.” Huan-jen returned the halfhearted smile with a genuine one of his own. “How are you holding up?”
“As well as can be expected,” Jade replied, keeping her voice down. “I … really wish the Council’d figure out what to do with the Communicants and be done with it. Gods we had a moment of peace …”
HuanJen nodded. He was impressed with Jade’s calm - by now he’d expected her sentences to be littered with some colorful expletives. “This isn’t like sharing services with Guild Medical.”
“No.” Jade sighed. “It will …”
“Shard Tower, there’s been an explosion!” Someone yelled.
Jade’s head whipped around as she looked towards the center of Metris. There was a visible plume of smoke coming from somewhere near top of Shard tower.
“Huan …” Jade felt the world slow. She heard the people around her. Talking. Screaming. Pointing.
“Jade,” HuanJen said calmly, evenly.
“Yes …”
People were bringing out cell phones. People were talking on porches. Jade could see cars pulling over on the street as the news reached drivers by radio or they stopped upon seeing the smoke. The information-matrix of Metris was firing up.
“We are going to go back to our apartment. Now.” HuanJen’s words were not orders, merely statements.
“Sure … ” the world kicked into the speed of light. “Christ, Huan, someone just blew a hole in Shard Tower.”
“Yes, and I suspect people are going to be very agitated about it.”
Jade looked at her lover. He was calm, quiet, taking things in stride yet still concerned. Then, equally calmly, he turned and began running back to the apartment.
For some reason, people didn’t seem as social.
“Do you think that was due to … our efforts?”
I thought I was along for the ride.
“I am merely asking for a
n opinion.”
I … partially. Intriguing, indeed. You can’t know if you had an effect, but you know you do.
“Yes.”
Hmmmm. I could get to like this. It’s subtle, like the finest knife’s edge …
“Huan?”
HuanJen rolled over at the sound of the voice, experienced a moment’s weightlessness, then became gravitically intimate with a floor.
“Ow. Sorry, love.”
HuanJen realized where he was; the floor of the apartment. Jade was over him. He was looking down her dress. She seemed concerned. He had been sleeping on the couch after …
The bombing.
“I must have fallen asleep, sorry dearest,” the Magician-Priest apologized, “What has transpired?”
“Call.” Jade held out a phone. “Didn’t even wake you, Mister supernatural-awareness. Dr. Mirabelle.”
“Good.” HuanJen siezed the phone. “Hello, I assume … thank you, my friend. Yes.”
A few long minutes passed as HuanJen sprawled across the couch, listening intently. Then the mystic handed the phone to Jade, and stood up.
“Someone bombed the offices of the Communicants. No one hurt, as if it was the intention not to. Some unusual charges as well.”
“Mirabelle is just a fount of odd information,” Jade said dryly. One of the heads of the Guild Esoteric infirmary, Jade had never figured the woman out, and she took great offense at that. People were usually quite simple to her, with the exception of a few people like HuanJen.
“She’s helping keep people informed. Everyone at the Guildhall is. It feels wrong, Jade. If feels stupid.” HuanJen rubbed his mouth. “As irrational as these times are, a bombing?”
“It’s an irrational time … and I’m sounding like you again.” Jade smirked, sitting on the floor next to her lover. “Gods, I …”
“Jade?” A strong, long-fingered hand stroked her black hair. Calmness seemed to pour out of HuanJen and into her soul.
“I’m OK. I’m fine. It’s just something else for us to deal with, we’re part of the Xaian immune system, right?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Jade shook her head. “Sorry, metaphor. We’ll cope, right, figure it out?”
“Cope, yes …”
Listen to the words in the city.
Spech resonating and echoing around, words bouncing off of minds like sounds off of tuning forks. Ideas growing and swelling.
“… the Communicants did it to themselves …”
“… I hear it was the Messengers …”
“… Technologists, who else would …”
“By Korsufar Bex, if any Constructionists were involved …”
The wrongness is increasing. But there seems to be no reason for it. For the anger. For the fear. For the paranoia.
However, people aren’t in the mood to slow down and look and actually ask what’s going on …
April 8, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
The Gendarmes of Metris knew their place; It had been established by tradition, by policy, by responsibility, and on one or two unpleasant occasion, shooting some people that assumed the law could be applied in a biased manner. They were people of connection, they knew where the pieces of life fit.
They also knew the place of Guild Esoteric. They took care of the connections between things, the living and the death, the young and the old. You made space for Guild Esoteric, they were part of the same duty you had, making sure things worked.
For instance if some of them wanted to investigate the site of an unpleasant death, you let them. They knew things about spirits and haunts, they knew signs you may miss.
Oh sure, there were questions. The bombing, of course, had everyone on edge, but it was being investigated. However, the Eostericists had their place, they were doing their job, just like always.
Nothing to be suspicious about.
Five figures stood in the doorway of an apartment. It was one of the fancier complexes, an old, subdivided mansion from days gone by. Now it was perhaps four different apartments - one of which had been cordoned off with rope and signs indicating it was a crime scene.
Ahn. Rake. Brownmiller. Jade. HuanJen.
“This is the, ah, only way we can get in,” Rake said unhappily. “If HuanJen wasn’t a registered exorcist …”
“We’d have to lie ourselves in another way,” Browmiller concluded.
The five entered the apartment carefully, a single clerical clot. They moved as a group not so much because they wanted to, but because each was keeping up with the others.
Jade sniffed the air. “Christ …”
“Not here,” Rake added.
” … blood. And . .. internals.” Jade felt her mouth going dry. Death was something she understood quite well, but the squishy parts got to her. She was used to skeletons in the closet, not dismembered bodies on a floor.
“We’re going to find at least a quarter of the body missing,” Brownmiller said casually. “That is, if it’s one of … his killings.”
“Would we be her if we thought it wasn’t?” Ahn asked, displaying more cynicism than any in the crowd had seen from him before, which was to say, any amount.
The living room of the apartment wasn’t in disarray, at least as much one would expect of a murder scene. Things were obviously moved, but not broken. It could have been a place caught in the chaos of moving in or out.
Except for the corpse, or what was left of it, partially hidden behind a couch. Closer examination of the brown carpet in the room revealed dried blood in abundance.
Ahn retched. Jade backed up next to the young Runner, trying not to look at the remains.
Remains. A person was dead and they became a word. Jade felt her mind stir with a queasy feeling that matched the one in her stomach. She kept reminding herself of the Ossuary, of the Big Picture, of Tao …
Brownmiller, Rake, and HuanJen advanced calmly, silently. For a few minutes the circled around and examined the corpse. Minutes stretched into nauseating eternities.
“It’s a standard Ziggurat Jack murder.” Rake stated finally.
“One, leg, hip missing, right forearm. Throat slit.” HuanJen’s voice was the click-click of an abacus of ice, but something boiled beneath the words, something not restrained, but waiting to manifest.
“It’s … it’s one of them,” Ahn half-stated, half-asked. “Always two parts of limbs missing and one non-limb?”
“Yes.” Brownmiller and Rake answered at once.
Brownmiller pointed over at an overturned chair. “But the parts are over there, as if discarded. The old myths had Jack taking them to build his Ziggurat back to our world. This isn’t following all the patterns.”
Silence. Jade covered her nostrils. The smell of the cadaver and its fluids felt like it was trying to claw into her brain. For a moment, she envied the others their usual senses of smell.
“He, ah, is back.” Rake stated firmly. “Ziggurat Jack. Different, but, ah, the same.”
“I am not surprised.” Ahn moaned. “I … we should do some last rights for her, to be proper.”
Brownmiller looked at Rake. Rake looked at HuanJen. HuanJen looked at Ahn, then back to Rake.
“I suppose … we could flip coins for it?” the Fang-Shih hazarded.
“Huan, shut up and do something,” Jade half-yelled. The four more senior clerics looked at her curiously. “Please.”
“I’ll do it, she was native.” Brownmiller said emotionlessly, trying not to look at Jade.
Jade closed her eyes as Brownmiller began his rituals. One of the gods he served was Korsufar Bex, lord of construction and cities, protector of what he made. A solid, reliable god. The Vulpine tried to find some comfort in Brownmiller’s words …
… but nothing seemed comforting and everything was terribly wrong.
How did it feel?
“Why do you ask?”
Curious. Curious.
“I did it to keep you sated. No more. Sacrifices must be made.”
/>
Yes. You gave your life and reputation to tear open the world. I didn’t think you’d do it, Paldayne.
“Nor did I.”
What does the god say?
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I have suspicions …”
Good. Everyone is in their place …
Jade Shalesdaughter looked over Metris, trying to find some enjoyment in seeing it function.
It didn’t look the same now. It was a city of victims to her, a city of victimizers. What would it take to push people over the edge? What would it take to send the city back to the Guildwar …
She wasn’t going to lose another home. Except it all felt crazy, and she couldn’t do anything. People had to know, they had to understand how insane this was, but if they did …
… and something had crawled out of the past and sliced a woman up. Something no one had wanted to believe in because it wasn’t convenient. Judging by Guild reports, there was enough to be concerned about anyway; Obsidians haunting important Communicants, a Messenger Guildperson suffering strange nightmares. You could ignore Ziggurat Jack.
So people had. They ignored so much until it snuck up on them. People always did that.
It didn’t seem worth it. HuanJen, he connected with people. But people just kept hurting themselves and each other. It didn’t seem worth it, all of it.
Her teeth grated against each other. She couldn’t think of it that way, not now, not the way she was. Don’t become cynical, don’t give in, don’t loose your heart.
“Dearest?”
Jade heard HuanJen enter the balcony behind her. She heard him - he moved like a fog. It struck her that he’d let her hear him, so as to not disturb her.
“Yes?” Jade asked wearily.
“I … heard some news on the bombing. One of the perpetrators turned himself in.”
Don’t give in. Don’t give in …
“Who did it?” Jade managed to ask.
“Apparently two members of the Messengers Guild, they felt … that the Communicants were going to use bioweapons or something to disrupt the Guild’s decision on how to control them.”
Crossworld of Xai Page 48
