by Marty Chan
Ehrich wanted to tell his friend that his father was still alive but in another dimension. Most likely, he would be preparing a sermon as his primary duty as the rabbi in Appleton, Wisconsin. But for him to tell the truth would mean to expose himself as the very illegal Dimensional that Charlie and he had sworn to apprehend. Instead, he borrowed Tesla’s story. “He fell off his horse.”
“I’m sorry, Ehrich. At least you had a chance to be with your father. My mother, before she died, said that mine was a drifter and no good to the family. She said we were better off without him. I don’t know if she was right or not, but that doesn’t matter now. We’re all in the same boat.”
Ehrich smiled. “Well, after I saw how you threw up, I don’t think I want you in my boat again.”
Charlie punched his friend in the arm. “Shut up. You know I can’t stand small boats.”
Ehrich rubbed his arm. “Okay, I’m going to get some sleep. Wake me if you see anyone.”
He curled into a ball and drifted off to sleep.
The Jade Tael
In the heart of the Bowery, men clashed with one another in a bloody gang war. Ehrich stood up from the cobblestone road and scanned the melee. Dash stood in the middle. He reached out for Ehrich. Then a bloom of blood appeared on his shirt. The boy crumpled like a limp doll. Ehrich rushed to help him, but the battle surged in between the two and he found himself being pushed back farther and farther. He couldn’t save his brother. The boy stared at Ehrich and gasped, “Help me!”
“Dash!” Ehrich bolted up, drenched in sweat. His brother haunted his nightmares and the sting of his failure still made his heart ache. Above the Bowery, the sky was starting to lighten.
Charlie snored beside him.
“You were supposed to keep watch,” Ehrich said. He kicked his friend, who awoke with a start.
“I was resting my eyes,” Charlie protested. “My ears were wide open.”
Ehrich climbed to his feet and stretched. Vendors and shop owners made their way along the street as life returned to the Bowery. As Ehrich stepped on the sidewalk, he noticed a couple approaching the Museum. The gentleman wore a smart black waistcoat while his female companion wore a yellow foulard bodice and bustle. A veil covered her face and white gloves covered her hands. The pair stopped outside the Museum, glancing around the street. Then they started up the steps. He wished he could see under the veil. Perhaps this was Amina. If so, who was her male companion?
He ran across the street, stumbling toward the pair. Charlie fell in step beside his partner. The woman glanced back and tugged her companion’s arm. They moved away from the Museum. Ehrich moved closer on an intercept course. When he was within arm’s reach, he noticed the woman had a necklace. On the end of the strap was a jade tael—a round coin with a square hole in the centre. The symbol of the House of Qi.
“Excuse me,” he said, bumping into the woman.
She didn’t respond. Instead, the couple sped away, heading north under the Sixth Avenue elevated train. Ehrich waved at Charlie.
“Is it Amina?” Charlie asked.
“No, but I think it’s the one Amina is looking for. We have to go after them.”
“What about the Museum?”
“You watch the door.” He sprinted after the pair.
“Oh no, you’re not freelancing on me,” Charlie said grimly. “Wait up!”
Ehrich matched the couple’s pace but stayed far enough back so as not to be noticed. The gentleman stopped at a peddler and browsed the assortment of dried goods on the cart while the woman scanned the street. Charlie caught up to Ehrich, but a guttersnipe grabbed the back of his duster.
“Spare some change?” the child begged.
“Let go,” Charlie said.
The woman grabbed the man’s arm, and the pair dashed away. Ehrich gave chase but Charlie couldn’t shake free of the urchin. The couple rounded a corner and Ehrich followed.
Suddenly, a red hand grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the brick wall.
“Why are you following us?” the woman hissed through her veil. Close up, Ehrich noticed tiny ivory tusks protruding from either side of her flared nostrils. “Who are you?”
“Nobody,” he gasped.
Her grip tightened as she lifted him off his feet.
“What do you want with us?” she asked.
Her friend grabbed her arm and glanced over his shoulder. “We’re in the open, Ning Shu. We should go.”
She nodded, beginning to squeeze her grip firmer. Ehrich gasped for air.
“No. Not that way.”
The red-skinned girl continued to choke the life out of Ehrich.
Charlie raced around the corner. “Hey! Drop him!”
The gentleman raised his arm and a spring-loaded derringer shot out of his sleeve and into his hand. The tiny pistol had a series of spinning gears along the barrel which instantly telescoped to triple its original length.
“Gun!” Ehrich gasped.
A whistle pierced the air and a dart flew into the man’s neck. He clutched at it and staggered back.
The red-skinned woman tossed Ehrich to the ground and whirled around, yanking off her jade tael necklace. She whipped it around in the air, creating a vortex that solidified into a glowing blue force field. A second dart bounced off the shield and landed on the sidewalk.
“Hakeem, are you all right?” she cried out to her companion.
He plucked the dart from his neck and clutched the tiny weapon. “Yes.”
“We must go,” she shouted. She angled the spinning jade tael toward the brick wall of the nearby building. A part of the wall exploded and bricks fell to the granite, forcing Ehrich to roll out of the way. Dust rose from the falling debris. Ehrich coughed as he climbed to his feet. He ran into Charlie.
“Did you see who shot?” he asked his friend.
Charlie pointed to a rooftop. “No, but it came from up there.”
Ehrich nodded. “Try to track the shooter. I’ll go after the other two.”
“Sure. Watch yourself. Meet back at the Museum.”
“Got it.” He ran after the couple.
j
Charlie turned his gaze skyward, catching the glimpse of a small figure running from one rooftop to another. The shooter moved fast, reaching the last building on the block before disappearing from the rooftop’s edge. Charlie ran to the brick building and kept his eye on the street level door. A dark-haired boy emerged a few moments later, tucking a crossbow under his jacket as he strode down the busy street.
Charlie fell in step behind the shooter all the way through Greenwich. The brownstone apartments soon gave way to warehouse buildings, and Charlie picked up the pace, realizing the boy was going to run out of real estate before he reached the Hudson River.
At the end of Morton Street, past a horse stable, the shooter jogged toward an excavation site. Two muscular men tended the entrance, but they seemed to recognize the boy and granted him entry.
Charlie stepped closer and noticed a sign on the fence: “Haskins’ Hudson River Tunnel Project.” Counting the many demons making their way through the gate, Ehrich guessed this project must be pretty massive. Why would workers in a river tunnel project need these two demons dead? He pulled his collar up and leaned against the brick wall. And waited.
j
Far away from the Hudson River, Ehrich struggled to keep up with the Dimensionals. They navigated the streets, always moving north, then headed up the stairs leading to the Ninth Avenue elevated train platform.
Ehrich reached the steps as a gaggle of commuters was coming down. He struggled to wade through the crowd, grabbing the railing to keep from being pushed back and knocking a couple of people out of his way. But just above him, the train began to pull out of the station, heading south. He had lost them.
Or so he thought. The sound of footsteps behind him caught his attention and he turned around. The pair was hustling along the railroad tracks in the opposite direction of the departing train. Ehrich
ran along the platform and hopped onto the tracks. At that moment, another train approached from the north. He stepped over to the other track, but the couple didn’t stray from their collision course with the oncoming engine.
A whistle shrilled.
Ehrich screamed, “Get off the track!”
He turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut as the whistle screamed one last time before the inevitable impact.
Once the train rolled into the station, however, Ehrich saw no trace of carnage on the track in its wake. Had the couple been knocked off the elevated rails? He surveyed the street far below. Nothing. They had vanished.
Under the Hudson River
Ehrich returned to Mr. Serenity’s Museum of Curiosities. He pushed through the throng of vendors and gawkers wending their way through the neighbourhood in search of entertainment at one of the local theatres or a drink at one of the taverns in the area. A spiritualist tried to hand him a pamphlet claiming that the existence of Dimensionals spelled the end of the world. She reminded him of Madame Mancini. Ehrich shoved it away.
Across the street from the Museum, Charlie flirted with a hot corn vendor. She handed him two ears of corn. He could turn on the charm when he had to.
“Any luck?” he asked Ehrich.
He shook his head and told the bizarre story of how he had lost the couple on the elevated tracks.
“What about you, Charlie?”
“You’re going to love this. The shooter was a kid.”
“Might be a Dimensional. Looks can be deceiving,” Ehrich reminded his friend.
“Sure, sure. Whatever the demon was, he ran to the Hudson River. You know the tunnel project?”
Ehrich shook his head.
“The demons are working for some rail tycoon named Haskins. They’re building a tunnel under the river to connect trains between New Jersey and Manhattan. It’s supposed to save money, but the danger of the river collapsing on the tunnel is why only demons are willing to do the job. The weird thing is that the guys they have working there are generally the size of small horses. What use would they have of a kid? I think there’s something more going on here.”
“You sure he’s still there?”
“Yeah, should be. Found an urchin to watch the entrance anyway, so we’ll know if he leaves and where he ends up. Want to check it out?”
Ehrich smiled. “Show me the way.”
The pair arrived at the Hudson River Tunnel Project in time for a shift change. Labourers lined up in front of the gate, waiting to go through. As Ehrich looked at the Dimensionals, he wondered how desperate for work they had to be to risk their lives under the Hudson River.
j
The morning sun glared down on Ehrich as he lugged a stack of newspapers under his arm. His stomach growled and he knew he’d have to sell quite a few papers if he was going to buy today’s meal. Before a nearby six-story clothing factory, a crowd gathered. Maybe he could make an easy sale or two. He jogged toward the scene, but slowed when he spotted the reason for the mob.
The angry protestors blocked the entrance to the building. Namely, they kept out the ragtag collection of workers showing up for their shift. In contrast to the grubby faces of the human protestors, the crimson-skinned labourers looked like demons from the underworld. Some towered over the others like tall oaks against saplings. A few sported tusks from their temples. A woman had black braided hair that resembled octopus tentacles. They were Dimensionals, beings from other worlds, like himself.
“Scabs!” yelled a voice in the angry mob. Ehrich couldn’t see who shouted, but he guessed that the safety of the mob spurred on the rabble-rouser. Soon, other people echoed the sentiment, until it built into a chant punctuated with insults. “Demons! Go back to where you came from! You don’t belong here!”
Ehrich stiffened and began to back away. He had seen this happen before at other factories and workplaces, where rich owners replaced human labour with Dimensionals willing to work for less. He wanted to tell the mob to direct their anger at the greedy factory owner rather than at the Dimensionals, who were just trying to earn enough to feed their families, but he knew it was easier for the mob to hate those who looked different and he was relieved he didn’t look like the frightened labourers.
A rock flew into the group of workers and struck a tall man in overalls, drawing what appeared to be green blood from his wide forehead. The Dimensionals closed ranks. Emboldened, the mob surged ahead and another stone flew. Then another. A blue-skinned behemoth caught one of the flying projectiles and tossed it in his mouth. He chewed rapidly, then leaned forward and spewed tiny pellets at the mob. The front line of protestors fell to the ground, clutching their faces in agony. This was enough to set off the riot.
Men and women charged the Dimensionals. Sticks came out and several workers fell under the barrage of beatings, until the woman with the tentacle hair wielded her braids like whips and lashed the protestors’ weapons out of their hands. The mob swarmed over the outnumbered labourers and the fighting spilled across the street in front of the factory.
Ehrich hoisted the papers under his arm and backed away from the battle. A short golden-skinned worker with bushy eyebrows and a torn smock emerged from the scene. She was barely older than ten and the right side of her face had puffed up from a protestor’s attack. She reached up with a clawed hand to wipe the green blood streaming from her forehead. Her thick eyebrows reminded Ehrich of his brother Dash.
Two burly men descended on the injured Dimensional. One grabbed her arm while the other raised his hand to strike her. Ehrich rushed at the attackers and hurled his stack of newspapers high in the air. The explosion of papers distracted the men from the wounded child. Ehrich blasted through the falling blizzard of newsprint, grabbed the girl’s arm and yanked her away from the crowd.
He rounded a corner and peeked back. The men kicked his papers across the ground and rejoined the fray. Ehrich’s ruse had worked, but there was no way he’d recover the money he spent to buy the newspapers. He’d have to go hungry another day or find a portly street vendor he could outrun.
“You’ll be fine here,” he assured the frightened girl.
Her green pupils widened and her nostrils flared. She stammered, “W-w-what do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
She shrank back against the wall. “They warned me about your kind.”
“Land sakes, we’re not all the same. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The yellow-skinned girl eyed him, unsure.
He peeked around the corner. “That riot will not be over quickly. You’re safer here.”
She stiffened. “My mother! She’s still there. I have to help her.”
Ehrich grabbed her arm. “Listen, I don’t know your mother, but I do not think she would want you in harm’s way.”
“I told her we shouldn’t go to work today,” the girl muttered. “I have to go.”
“You know what my mother did? We were on a ship coming to America. My father was already in New York, so she had to care for all five kids by herself. When it was time to eat, some of the other passengers, they would elbow their way to the front of the line and take more than their share. My mother, she saw this and didn’t think it was fair that her kids starved so that these men could eat. So she pushed past them to get enough food for all of us. She was a tiny woman, but everyone backed down to her. I will guess your mother is much like mine, yes?”
Her hunched shoulders finally relaxed. He patted her claw hand. The clamour of battle raged on around the corner, but the space Ehrich had created for this girl was quiet and still. She took his wrist in her claw and smiled. “Yes, she is.”
“She will be fine,” Ehrich said. “You and I are the same.”
An explosion ripped through the air, startling both of them. A sharp pain radiated around his wrist, where the girl was now squeezing her claw.
“What are you doing?” he gasped.
“Momma!” the frightened girl cried.
She
bolted around the corner, leaving Ehrich clutching his bloody wrist to stem the flow of blood from his jagged wound. He scanned the crowd but the girl was gone.
j
Charlie approached an urchin, a dirty-faced human girl, leaning against a brick wall that gave her the perfect vantage point to spy on the comings and goings of the Hudson River Tunnel Project. She eyed the cobs of corn Charlie held in his hand and licked her lips.
“Did you see anyone leave, kid?”
“Cost you to know,” she said.
He gave her one of the cobs.
She shucked the warm corn and bit into the cob. “No. No kids went out or in.”
“You’re sure? You didn’t look away or go off someplace?”
She shook her head.
“Good job.” He gave her the other cob. “Now scram.”
She ran off.
Ehrich eyed the entrance. “You ready for this?”
“I’d feel a lot more ready if I had a volt pistol with me,” Charlie said as he strode ahead toward the gate.
They cut to the front of the line. Ehrich tipped his bowler to the attendants. “Afternoon, gentlemen.”
“What do you want?” the bald one with serpent tattoos around his neck asked.
Charlie crossed his arms over his chest. “We heard some reports that a few illegals might be working here.”
“No. We run a clean operation,” the other guard replied. “Isn’t that right, Jinn?”
The tattooed one nodded.
Charlie didn’t give up. “My partner is a stickler for details. We’d like to do a spot inspection.”
“I’ll say one thing for you hunters: you’re thorough, as in thorough pains in the neck,” Jinn said.
Ehrich slid beside his friend. The hulking attendants, likely to have more muscle than sense and more scars than teeth, refused to budge.
“Listen fellas, you know the Demon Watch is going to go into your operations sooner or later,” Charlie said. “A spot check won’t put a crimp in your night, but it’d be a shame if Mr. Haskins found out you could have avoided a weeklong shutdown.”
