Play Dead

by John Levitt

  “Thought so. And that woman, the practitioner? Quite a looker.”

  “I know. And she never noticed you?”

  “Nope. Or if she did, she thought I was just some homeless guy. Kind of like you did the first time we met, remember?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “But I’d be careful if I was you. You might be able to deal with her, but I’m not so sure about her Ifrit. Damnedest thing I ever saw.”

  “What Ifrit?”

  “Didn’t I mention it? A big-ass snake, and poisonous to boot, I’m guessing.”

  SEVEN

  SO JESSIE, NOT JACKIE, HAD BEEN THE ONE MESSING around with the energy pool. I remembered Jessie asking me questions the first time I’d seen her. Having more information was supposed to make things clearer, not more confusing, but it wasn’t working out that way.

  Rolf didn’t ask me any more about where I’d been. He doesn’t like to reveal much about himself and as a result he doesn’t ask many questions himself, either. If nothing else, he’s consistent.

  He walked me out to the front gate. Unlike in the singularity, the padlock on this one would be real, and Rolf’s better at opening locks than I am. I certainly didn’t want to climb over that fence again, especially now that it would be topped with actual barbed wire. But the lock was already open and the gate slightly ajar. More questions.

  It would have been a long walk home, so I walked over to Mission Street and hopped a bus. I should have thrown an illusion spell over Lou; dogs are not welcome, even off-hours, unless leashed and muzzled. And they pay full fare. But it was late, the bus was almost empty, and I was tired and not in the best of moods. When I boarded, the driver shook his head.

  “Sorry. You need a leash for your dog.”

  I put a couple of bills in the fare box as Lou ran down to the back and wedged himself under a seat.

  “What dog?” I said.

  He shrugged and closed the door. He had a long route to finish. He wasn’t looking for a hassle over a dog.

  I walked the last few blocks to my house, needing some time to mull things over. How had Jackie created that singularity? It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, even for a strong practitioner. No one I knew could pull it off—not without special help.

  And equally pressing was that something had followed Lou and me out of the singularity. I had no idea what it was, but past experience told me it was trouble.

  I passed a newspaper box on a corner and checked the date. Tuesday. That meant I’d lost about a day and a half; not bad considering. It could have been a week or even a month.

  I grabbed some turkey from the fridge as soon as I got home, gave some to Lou, made a lame-tasting sandwich, and checked my messages. There were two from Jessie, the first one annoyed that I hadn’t got back to her yet, the second stronger, with just a hint of threat. Jessie wasn’t one who took well to the notion that she was being blown off.

  Should I call her, or wait until tomorrow? That question was answered when the twig on the table, the one from Cassandra’s houseboat walkway, sprang into life. I’d almost forgotten about it. It flickered briefly, then settled in and glowed a steady fluorescent green. Cassandra had just stepped onto the plank that led to her front door.

  “Come on,” I said to Lou, who had just curled up on the bed and was looking forward to a pleasant nap. I was tired, too, but that didn’t matter. The woman might have just slipped back to pick up some belongings and if I didn’t catch her now, we might never see her again.

  I stuck the glowing twig in my pocket and grabbed my old binoculars. When I held the door open for Lou, he took his own sweet time about getting up, stretching fore and aft like he’d been asleep for hours. He can be annoying when he’s trying to make a point.

  Fifteen minutes later I was across from the houseboat, a couple of blocks away. Masking spells take energy, and distance plus binoculars works just as well with a lot less effort.

  Lights were on in the houseboat, but no sign of Cassandra. That wasn’t a problem. When she exited through the gate that led out of the houseboat row, there was only one direction she could go. I took out the roll of duct tape I keep in the glove compartment and headed down there on foot. A block down from the gate, the sidewalk narrowed to accommodate a large fuchsia bush. Perfect.

  First came the tape. I pulled off a long strip and folded it lengthwise in half, so that part of the sticky side was face-up, and laid it carefully down on one side. Then, another on the opposite side and two more, forming a large sloppy rectangle. The twig came next; I dropped it in the middle of the rectangle and threw some dirt over it to hide the glow. It still had Cassandra’s essence attached to it.

  I gathered energy, ran it through the rectangle I’d made, sucked up the stickiness of the tape and Cassandra’s essence from the twig, and poured it all into a small rock I picked up from under the fuchsia. The trap was set—as soon as Cassandra walked into the area, I’d activate the rock, throw it in with her, and she’d be caught. More important, it would negate her talent and keep her from doing anything effective. It wouldn’t hold her forever, but it wouldn’t have to. I would be right there alongside to keep her in check.

  Back to the van. I settled in, wishing I’d thought to pick up something to eat on the way over. I’d give it a while; I could always go down to her houseboat and confront her there, but engaging a hostile practitioner on her home turf is seldom a good idea. I could wait.

  Nothing happened for a half hour or so and then the lights in the house went off. A few seconds later the front door opened. When I focused my binoculars on the door I couldn’t see much, since it was dark, but I could see a short figure toting a duffel bag almost as large as she was. Cassandra had picked up whatever stuff she thought was vital, and was on her way out. She crossed the plank, went out the gate leading to the road, and walked down toward the parking lot. She acted nervous and kept glancing over her shoulder.

  I slipped out of the van and signaled for Lou to circle around and come at her from the other side. He’d played this game before; I didn’t need to tell him what to do. I moved up closer to her, but still stayed well back, out of sight. I was too far back to see Lou, but when she reached the area I’d prepared, she suddenly stopped short and let the duffel slip to the ground, so I knew she had spotted him. She stared off into the darkness. Then she whipped her head around as he showed himself again.

  Lou was hiding in the fuchsia, taking advantage of urban cover, letting her get just a glimpse of him from time to time. She wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing, but she knew something was up. Unfortunately for her, she was so focused that she forgot to look behind her. I got right up within ten feet before she became aware of my presence, and by then it was too late.

  I tossed the rock at her feet just as she spun around. She raised her hand and flung it out at me, but of course nothing happened. She’d been neutralized. I raised my own hand and walked up closer to where she stood.

  “Take it easy,” I said. “I’m not looking for any trouble.”

  “Then you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said, and flung her hand out again.

  Still nothing. She stood there like a statue as the state of affairs dawned on her. She slowly lowered her hand as Lou came out from the bushes and stood on the other side. For a moment I thought she was going to try to bolt, but thought better of it. Her next words were a little calmer.

  “So, who are you, then?” she asked.

  “Mason.” I waved a hand at Lou. “That’s Lou.”

  She nodded. “Huh. I’ve heard of you, actually. Supposedly you’re not so bad. What in God’s name are you doing working for someone like Jessie?”

  “A good question. But I’m not exactly working for her, and she at least never tried to kill me. That seems a bit of an overreaction from someone who doesn’t even know who I am.”

  “Those fireflies?” Cassandra made a sound of disgust. “They wouldn’t have killed a child, just taught you a lesson; that’s all.”


  “Sure.”

  “And you’re telling me you don’t work for Jessie?” Her tone was as skeptical as it gets, and I hesitated. “Thought so,” she said.

  “She thinks something was stolen from her,” I finally said.

  “By Jackie, right? That’s what she told you?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did she tell you what it was?”

  “No. Just that it was something valuable. Some magical object, I’d imagine.”

  “And you agreed to track Jackie down, just on Jessie’s word. Brilliant. Do you have even the slightest clue what Jessie’s like? She’s a black practitioner, you know.”

  “Oh, I have some idea,” I said. “Anyway, Jackie’s a dark practitioner, too, isn’t she?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. But I would like to hear her side of it.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “No, really. I would.”

  Cassandra seemed a bit more measured now that it looked like I wasn’t going to do anything to her right away.

  “Not going to happen,” she said. “Jackie’s not stupid. She won’t let you get anywhere near her.”

  “Well, I’ll just have to keep looking for her, I guess.”

  She gave me a long look, shrewd and calculating.

  “What if I told you what Jackie took? What if it wasn’t some magical object? Would that change your mind?”

  “I doubt it. But you could give it a try.”

  She stared at me for what seemed like a very long time before she spoke again.

  “It’s not a magical object. It’s not anything magical at all, and it’s not worth anything.”

  “The perfect crime.”

  She ignored me. “Have you ever heard of Sun City Inc.?” I shook my head. “It’s a real estate development group. Very upscale; they buy prime areas of pristine land and sell lots to people with money.”

  “For homes or for stuff like shopping malls?”

  “Both. Integrated communities, they call them. They get hold of wilderness land and turn it into suburbia.”

  “And?”

  “Their latest interest is part of the Point Reyes National Seashore. That’s what the meeting you came to was all about.”

  “Good luck with that. Never gonna happen.”

  “You’d think. But Jessie is connected up with the deal and there’s been a lot of under-the-table negotiation going on. Mostly about money, of course, but she has her talent as well—something no one else is aware of. No one but other practitioners.

  “She’s been talking up state representatives, federal government people, even senators, for all I know. A lot of money has exchanged hands, but even more important, there’s been coercion—coercion on a magical level. Those poor saps don’t even know what hit them. They’re agreeing to stuff they would never have dreamed they’d accept. Plus, good old-fashioned blackmail. You can lean hard on people when you know secrets. And it’s hard to keep secrets from a practitioner.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Jackie?”

  “This all started up in Seattle. Jessie got wind of an opportunity here and started working on it. There are files— e-mail messages, payoff ledgers, notes about what was done and to whom. Jackie copied them all onto a CD, wiped the computer hard drive, and took off. It screwed things up royally—that’s why Jessie came down to San Francisco. She had to see a lot of the players in person after that.

  “Not to mention if all that stuff were made public, it would sink the deal, and the deal is worth millions—no, hundreds of millions. Jessie’s desperate to get them back—and shut up Jackie for good.”

  “Shut her up how? You mean, like permanently?”

  Cassandra looked at me in amazement.

  “No, of course not. Don’t be absurd. I mean, we’re talking about Jackie.”

  “Okay,” I said, as if I knew what she was talking about. “And what exactly is your role in this?”

  “I’ve known Jackie since forever. We tried starting an environmental movement among practitioners, to help heal the earth before the ordinaries destroy it. But it never got off the ground—it turns out that practitioners are as greedy and apathetic as anyone else.”

  She had that right.

  “So then we tried working through normal channels, like the group you met. At first we tried talking to people, to convince them, to show them the damage we’re all doing to the earth. But we’ve been met with indifference at best, or a patronizing tolerance like we were kids who needed to be indulged. So we decided on more aggressive methods.”

  “Like theft?”

  “Among other things.”

  “So how did Jackie end up working for Jessie, anyway?” I asked. “Did she sell out and join magical corporate America?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  “No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “Wow. Maybe you are just a dupe, after all.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  “Well. Let me show you something,” she said, leaning down toward the duffel bag.

  As she bent down, she lunged sideways, catching me off guard. In less than a second she’d torn one of the duct tape strips off the ground and was out of her cage. Two seconds later she was swallowed up by the darkness, and probably by a concealing spell as well. Lou took off after her but I called him back.

  “Let it go,” I said.

  I’d learned what I wanted from her, and I wasn’t eager to go chasing after her through the dark in any case. She’d already shown she possessed some talent and ability, and although I had no desire to harm her, the reverse wasn’t necessarily true.

  I made my way back to the van, thinking hard. I’d assumed the problems between the two of them were of the magical variety; that only made sense. But money is the motivating factor in more disputes than anything else. That and sex, and the sex angle didn’t apply here. Or perhaps it did; anything was possible. Or it could even be exactly as Cassandra had made it out to be. Sherwood had pegged Jackie as a woman of principle, passionate about her beliefs. Maybe she truly was a caped crusader for the environment. But somehow I didn’t think it was that simple.

  EIGHT

  JESSIE WAS MAD AS HELL WHEN I STOPPED BY her office the next morning. Naja was nowhere in sight, which didn’t make either me or Lou any more comfortable. I could have defused Jessie’s anger in a second by explaining about Jackie, the singularity, and the time glitch, but until I knew more about what was going on I wasn’t explaining anything to anyone. Especially since Jessie had been screwing around with the energy pool.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was out of town.”

  “Really. Where?”

  “Not relevant,” I said, which was a lie. “I ran into some trouble.” That much at least was true.

  “I’m paying you a lot of money,” she said. “I expect you to be looking for Jackie, not dealing with your own stuff on my time.”

  “Sometimes it can’t be helped.” I changed the subject. “I did run into a practitioner who seems to know you, though. Cassandra?”

  I watched for some reaction, and I got one. It wasn’t very helpful, though. Jessie just looked thoughtful.

  “Cassandra. Surprising. I didn’t know she was in San Francisco, too.”

  “She seems to hold you in high esteem,” I said.

  Jessie laughed. “Yes, I’ll bet. She’s a good friend of Jackie’s, and she’s trouble. She’s one of those eco freaks—earthers.”

  “Earthers?” I said, like I had no clue what she was talking about.

  “Earthers. It started out as a small movement, a save-the-earth movement among practitioners. Nothing wrong with that, mind you—I’m rather fond of the planet myself, and humans are certainly messing it up. That’s one reason I think practitioners should have a voice in running things.

  “But the earthers, and Cassandra in particular, are extremists. They’re the magical equivalent of tree spike
rs, and nothing is beyond them. They’re just getting started, and God knows what’s next.”

  “And she’s a friend of Jackie’s.”

  “Yes, and she’s filled her head with the earther crap. Jackie used to be levelheaded and reliable, but Cassandra’s really had an influence on her, and not a positive one. I’d guess she knows exactly where Jackie is.”

  “Quite possibly. She left before I could ask her. But here’s the thing: Jackie isn’t just hiding from you; she knows you’ve moved to San Francisco and she could have left at any time if she simply wanted to avoid you. And she apparently knows who I am, knows very well. So if she stole something from you, and now you’re in San Francisco, too, why hasn’t she simply left town?”

  “That’s complicated,” Jessie said, using one of my own favorite phrases.

  “Okay. Does it have anything to do with Sun City?”

  “No. And where did you hear about that?”

  “According to Cassandra, Jackie stole a bunch of files that implicate your company with some crooked business practices—influence peddling, bribery, stuff like that.”

  Jessie smiled. “Perfect,” she said. “And you believed her?”

  “I haven’t decided. Care to enlighten me?”

  Jessie got up from behind her desk and walked toward the window overlooking the city streets. Naja materialized from out of somewhere and glided over to her, and Lou moved a little closer to me. Jessie looked out the window for a minute before she turned back to me.

  “Cassandra’s a clever woman,” she said. “She told you part of the truth. That’s the best way to sell a lie, you know. Yes, Jackie took some files, but that’s just an annoyance. It was the other thing that’s important.”

  “Which was?”

  “Have you ever heard of Wilhelm Richter?”

  “Of course.”

  Richter was a black practitioner from the nineteenth century. He’s venerated by black practitioners, much like Alistair Crowley is among ordinary black practitioner wannabes. Except while Crowley was a philosopher who got almost everything wrong, Richter was a practitioner, and a practical man who got a lot of things right.