by Phil Gabriel
Turning the iPad around so Naughty-Sue could see the auction, I said, “Do you want to match the bid?”
The cute little fox thief’s eyes widened as she saw the numbers climb. She shook her head.
“OK,” I said, “the auction continues.” I couldn’t hold back my grin.
I held the iPad so that Naughty-Sue could see the climbing numbers. As the figures counted up, my grin grew wider and wider. Finally, the bidding seemed to slow down, then stop with one bid topping all the others.
“Looks like Freddy won the auction,” I said. “Naughty-Sue, I’m sure you two will have a lot of fun.”
As my finger reached for the button to confirm Freddy’s winning bid, the fox said, “I’ll pay.”
“What was that?” I asked. “Are you sure? That’s a lot of money. Thirty-one days will be over before you know it. Hell, you might even learn to like Freddy.”
“I’ll pay!” shouted the fox in her tiny voice. She shook her tiny fist at me.
“Cash or bank transfer only,” I said. “No checks, no IOUs. Do you have the money in tiny pockets?”
Kitty-Sue leaned in and spoke with her sister in a language I couldn’t wrap my ears around. After several minutes, Kitty-Sue turned to me and said, “She’ll match Freddy’s bid. Do you accept?”
I was about to say yes, when Princess sent out a hiss.
“Sorry,” I said, “That’s not good enough for Princess. She wants her to beat Freddy’s bid.”
“What does Princess want?” asked Kitty-Sue. “More money?”
Stroking Princess’ hilt, I said, “Princess wants a vow that your sister will never act to cause harm to me or any of my friends, friend’s family’s, or acquaintances.”
“You know she can lie, right?” said Kitty-Sue, earning her a nasty look and a hiss from the caged fox. Kitty-Sue shrugged her shoulders at her sister as if to say she had brought this upon herself.
“Ahh,” I said. “Princess has that covered. If Naughty-Sue breaks this vow, she will find her no matter where in the world she goes, and chop off her head.”
I saw the calculating look in Naughty-Sue’s tiny eyes fade to shock. She could bamboozle a human magician, but Princess was now immune to almost any trick she could use.
In a whisper, the caged fox bowed her head and said, “Agreed.”
I looked at her for a moment, pursed my lips in thought, then reached for the iPad to let the bidders know that the auction was closed.
Reaching over to the cage, I popped the lock and Naughty-Sue scrambled out and leaped to the floor. Before she hit the floor, she was back in human form. The sheer anger on her face was satisfying in the extreme.
She held up one finger and opened her mouth to say something nasty. Her finger trembled and she gasped and swallowed.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Words hurt. Hurtful words hurt more. You’ll find you won’t be able to speak or act against me or my friends.”
Face filled with impotent rage, she let out a cloud of her pheromone scent. It didn’t affect Kitty-Sue or Princess, but made me gag. I guess that was her way of getting the last word in.
Ten
The Money Runs Out
Three days later, I had received enough money to pay off all my credit cards, the damage to the hotel room, and the huge bar bill. Naughty-Sue had paid all of my demands, in lieu of being auctioned off to the highest bidder at a Furry convention.
Princess Blade wasn’t happy with the arrangement, having preferred to lop off some limbs in accordance with fae custom; but even she had to acknowledge getting all my money, a heaping of humiliation on her kidnapper, and reunification with her wielder was the best she could hope for in these strange lands. Her thirst for the blood of my enemies would have to go unslaked for the moment. However, I promised her that if Naughty-Sue crossed us again, she would be free to follow her cold, metal heart.
The infusion of cash caused me to review all of my accounts. I was shocked to learn that one of my regular customers hadn’t paid an invoice in several months. This was a contract for a magical data link for a New York-based investment firm that specialized in high-speed trading. Having a faster-than-light link made them extremely profitable. The loss of that income put several of my projects at risk: the orphanage in Colombia that nurtured children with magical ability, the project in Las Vegas that was fabricating a seven-ton tungsten sphere for my inertial transfer experiments, and my bar tabs.
Time to clear that up. I placed a Skype call to the number of my contact at the company. He was “no longer with the firm,” the receptionist said, before transferring me to the new “subcontractor liaison.” I finally got through to him, after several hours of delay.
While waiting, I performed an endless round of calisthenics and meditation to try and restore some of the youth I had given away during my night with Naughty-Sue. God, I hated being old.
Finally, the screen activated and I was able to talk with a company representative. “I wanted to call about the missing payments for my telecommunications services,” I explained.
The screen showed a young man in an expensive suit, tailored to perfection. He had brown hair, sharp blue eyes, and an even sharper smile. When he leaned back, I could see that the suit hung on him like it draped a mannequin. At his back, the window showed an upper story view of the New York skyline.
Those perfect features could indicate many things. Unfortunately, the screen only showed the human spectrum, so I couldn’t get a read on his aura. I had the strong feeling that he was part of the supernatural world.
“Yeah,” he drawled while balancing a Montblanc pen on one finger, “we decided that we didn’t need to keep paying you that monthly fee. Now that Selene Select Partners has bought out the old firm, the old contracts are voided.”
“No problem,” I replied with a smile, showing my new dentures. “I’ll just remove the equipment for the data link. I’m sure one of your competitors will be happy to pay for my services.”
“Yeah,” he replied with a grin that bared his eyeteeth, “that’s not gonna happen. We decided that for what we already paid you, we get to keep the equipment. With the New York ban on your kind, you’re never going to get close to here again.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, cub,” I said. “I was hoping to come to a mutual understanding.”
At his glare, I knew that my guess was right. The physique, the attitude, the teeth—all pointed to a wolf shifter. His reaction to the cub comment showed he was sensitive about his rank in the pack.
He gave me a “so we understand each other” look and glanced to the side, where a monitor displayed various streams of financial data. “I really don’t have any time to talk to you; I have a date with a hot model.” He reached to turn off the video call.
“Just one more thing, if you please,” I said, pulling a vellum sheet with arcane symbols from my desk drawer. “Are you sure you don’t need my services anymore? Re-activating at a later date will incur significant expenses and a doubling of the monthly payments. I really think you should run this past your alpha.”
“No, maggie,” he said, using the slur for magicians, “I make the decisions for this division. You are out.” He continued his tirade, insulting my parents, brothers, sisters, other relatives, etc.
While he was emoting, I willed a candle to light and held the vellum over the flame.
On the page, three symbols were interwoven, the result of a week’s painstaking work. One symbol was quantum entangled with the output port of a router located at the Wall Street firm’s office, bringing the data flow to the sheet. That symbol intertwined with the middle symbol, which buffered and transferred the data stream, feeding it to the third symbol. The third symbol was quantum entangled with a router port located in the New York Stock Exchange. Installing that third symbol had taken another week’s work and a magical break-in at the stock exchange to complete. Due to the quantum entangled data stream, the firm’s orders could arrive at the NYSE faster than light, allowing the
m to beat all the other competitors in high-speed trading.
At the time, I had briefly considered only linking the two locations directly. The link through my vellum script was a considerable amount of trouble to set up. Now, I was glad I had made the extra links as insurance.
“I’m sorry you decided to end our contract,” I replied. “Your data link is being deactivated. Thanks for doing business with us.”
“You aren’t getting in here to deactivate shit, buddy,” he said as the vellum whooshed into flame, severing the data link. He glanced at the trading screen as it froze, shock showing on his face. It looked like his date would have to wait.
“So good doing business with you,” I said. “However, if I have to deal with you again, the price will triple. I’m tired of dealing with cubs.”
As I cut the link, he was frantically typing on his keyboard.
Alerted by the rush of mystic energy released as the vellum burned, Akiko came into my study. I nodded to her as she stood by and listened to my conversation. In the living room, the stereo started playing the old Supertramp song “Money.”
Five minutes later, my iPad pinged. I answered after five rings. It was my cub. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
“You son of a bitch,” he screamed as his canines extended. “You fix this now, or I’ll hunt you down and rip your heart out!” His saliva spotted the camera.
“I’m glad you called back,” I said. “The price for renewing services just tripled. I will require a one-year-advance payment to restart your services.” I clicked off again.
Fifteen minutes later, my iPad pinged again. This time, I let it ring eight times before answering.
The screen cleared to show an alarmingly beautiful red-haired female with a disarming smile.
“Dr. Freeman,” she said in a sultry voice, “I’m Ms. Cappuccetto, with Selene Select Partners. I’m very happy to contact you. Our director, Mr. Frost, would appreciate the chance to speak with you.”
In the background was the same office. Only now, the window was broken, the furniture was in shambles, and a powerfully built man was rolling down his sleeves. The grim expression on his face showed he was not happy about recent developments.
“Sure thing, Red,” I replied, mentally tagging her as a Red-Riding-Hood, one of the pack’s public faces. “I’m always ready to talk business.”
Mr. Frost came to the screen, his close-lipped smile not reaching his eyes.
“Dr. Freeman,” he said, putting on his jacket, “we are anxious to renegotiate our contract. I certainly hope that your negative experience with our former employee will not prevent that.
“I can assure you”—he smiled, this time showing teeth—“he has been terminated.”
So, no golden parachute for the former employee. Even a shifter couldn’t survive a fifty-story fall to the pavement.
Ms. Red was on her cell phone in the background. “...yes, just jumped from the window. He was despondent over losing a big contract. Very unexpected...”
At his rear, workers entered the room with a new window. As they started to clear out the old window, Frost lifted the laptop we were talking through and carried it to another office.
This office was much larger and more sumptuous. Large windows filled the corner, giving a magnificent view of New York. His desk was one of those granite monsters, empty except for a legal pad perfectly centered in front of his chair.
He set the laptop down on the desk, facing the chair, then slid into the chair with the grace of a shifter.
“I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” he said smoothly. “You say you would like to continue the same pay structure as before?”
Nice try. “Unfortunately, prices have gone up considerably since the last contract was negotiated. Perhaps your terminated employee didn’t have time to tell you”—before he hit the ground— “the new prices. We will need to increase from fifty thousand dollars per month to one hundred and fifty thousand per month.” I paused before continuing, “I think we should also discuss an escalation clause, to cover future increases. Those, of course, could be tied to your firm’s increased performance.”
His features froze for a moment and his eyes flared, then he said through gritted teeth, “I think we have room for an agreement along those lines.” He looked away from the screen and asked someone to summon the firm’s lawyer. I heard Red say “Right away, sir!” followed by the fast click-clack of her high heels as she ran to do his bidding. She could tell he was in a foul mood.
“I will also need to receive an advance payment of one year,” I continued, “to be held by me and forfeited in the case of another contract termination.” That would get me the capital I needed for the orphanage, my research lab, and Tokyo expenses.
I heard soft whispers in the background, but couldn’t make out the content. Shifters have excellent hearing, so he had no trouble getting whispered advice from his lawyer.
“There is also the matter of the missing five months’ payments. In the interest of future business, I am prepared to charge only the previous rate for those months, as long as payment is made by the end of the week.”
“So, you’ll have the link restored by the end of the week?” said Frost in that ‘of course you will’ voice used to command subordinates. The stereo shifted to the Creedence Clearwater Revival song “Bad Moon Rising.” Akiko raised an eyebrow.
“I’m afraid that’s just not possible. There’s equipment to procure, firmware updates, software patches, etc. All that work has to be done here first, before we come to New York to restore your link,” I said. Hell if I was going to jump on the next flight for these assholes. They could wait until I was ready.
Frost’s eyes grew hard as he took a deep breath. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I need you here as soon as possible...” with a rising tone. At my bland “I don’t give a shit” expression, he visibly controlled his temper.
“In that case,” he continued, “please settle all the details with Ms. Cappuccetto. She has my full authority to bind the pa...firm.”
“Of course,” I said. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
Frost abruptly stood and stalked away, probably to throw someone else out of a window. The laptop was again picked up, this time by Ms. Cappuccetto, who soothingly said, “Could you please provide banking details so I can send that first payment?”
Hashing out the details took another ten minutes. Ms. Cappuccetto insisted on providing first-class tickets for me, which I graciously accepted. We argued again over the time frame, but she finally settled for an arrival in New York two weeks hence.
After we signed off, the stereo switched songs, now playing “It’s a Trap” by Coin. “Thanks, Euterpe,” I said. “I know it’s a trap.”
“Who talking to?” asked Akiko.
Considering the jealous rage my comments to Kitty-Sue about Euterpe engendered, I hesitated to give Akiko the complete story. “Euterpe is a guardian angel,” I said, “who can only communicate through music.”
“Ha, Scott-Sensei,” she replied with a giggle, “your jokes very funny. If spirit here, I would see her.” This coming from my ghost student invisible to almost everyone.
“So, you don’t believe in Euterpe?” I asked.
“No,” she replied. “This is another of your jokes. Like your story about making queen young.
“Or,” she continued, “your magic make the electronics mess up. That’s why we hear random songs. The same thing happens when I walk through electronics.”
While she talked, I started typing on my iPad, and Akiko looked over my shoulder. “Why you booking flight? I thought they send tickets?”
“They’re only sending tickets so that they know exactly when I’ll arrive,” I replied. “I prefer to arrive on my own schedule. Plus, I’ll have a couple of stops to make on the way there.”
Eleven
My Bodyguard
Kitty-Sue handed me a glass of red wine and asked, “What are you so worried about
?”
“I need to go to New York,” I replied, cupping the glass in my hands and inhaling the aroma of the wine before sipping, “but that’s dangerous territory for a magician.”
“Why is that?” she said as she pulled a thin yoga mat out from a cabinet and laid it on the floor. Her butt was aimed in my direction, normally a great distraction, but I was already thinking about the trip.
“New York’s magical community is ruled by a witches’ coven,” I replied, taking another sip of the wine. “They banned magicians over a hundred years ago.”
“But I’ve heard your stories,” she said, limbering up with some stretches. “You’ve been to New York many times.”
“Yeah, when I was at full power, the ban was merely an annoyance,” I said. “Now that I’m weaker, they might be able to do some damage.”
“No problem,” said Kitty-Sue. “Take a bodyguard.”
One of the drawbacks to imposed truthfulness is the inability to lie to yourself. A glance in the mirror showed that I was still a weak, denture-wearing old man. On the magical front, my injuries were still healing. The tattoos I used to conduct the various forms of magical energy had been damaged severely when I routed all my life energy through them in the battle with Jorōgumo. Sections of the glyphs had been burned off, along with a considerable amount of skin. Now that the worst of the burns had healed, it would take an expert artist and specialized equipment to renew them. I had several vials of dragon’s blood in my bag, which could be used for the repair. The only problem was that the artists I knew would want an equal quantity of dragon’s blood for payment.
I briefly considered doing the tattoos myself, but a glance at my arthritic hands showed that that wasn’t an option. Even at my best, I didn’t have the ability. It would be like a doctor operating on himself.
The only artist I trusted to do the work lived in New York, giving me a second reason to go.
Kitty-Sue was right; I needed a bodyguard.
