Division Zero: Lex De Mortuis

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Corporal.” Kirsten approached the closest man in blue. “Let whoever is in command of this squad know to keep their men out of the mall. There are paranormal entities involved, I don’t care if you believe me or not, no one goes in.”

  Not waiting for the reply, she grasped the handle of her stunrod to keep it from bouncing into her leg and took the long stairway to the mall’s front entrance two steps at a time. Four capsule elevators flanked the door, continuing to glide up and down along their tracks despite being empty. Automatic glass doors slid out of her way as she ran inside, closing through Dorian. The entire inside area was devoid of people, lending eeriness to the building dread she felt at dealing with these beings.

  Even Dorian had a look of concern; these things were strong enough to obliterate him.

  She halted at a three-way intersection packed with stores and kiosks. “If you’re still feeling weak…”

  Two dozen advert droids whirled to face her. Kirsten imagined yellow exclamation points above them a second before they all descended upon the only living person in the mall.

  “No way in hell I’m leaving you alone in here.” He pointed northeast. “That way.”

  “Gah!” she cried, swatting at the evasive floating nuisances. “Stupid bots.”

  Kirsten, trailing a cloud of commercialism, jogged to the end of the concourse toward voices emanating from the other side. A silver-tiled column just outside a holovid shop provided some cover. One eye peeked around the edge as her E-90 leaned around the corner. Icarus and Seneschal stood with their backs facing her, about twenty paces from the corner. They flanked a fountain made of fiberoptic line and glass dolphins, frolicking in a rainbow of light and water. Two more passages packed with shops forked off on the far side of the glowing installation.

  Icarus squinted into the distance. “I got nothin’, we lost him.”

  Seneschal growled low in his throat. He swung a compact assault rifle past rows of shops. “I can still smell him. We wait here for Mariko to flush him out.”

  Kirsten lifted her weapon, aiming at Seneschal’s back. Once the glowing sights lined up, blue dot inside blue ring, she called out. “Seneschal, Icarus, hold it right there.”

  “Smooth. What do you intend to do, haul them downtown?” Dorian shook his head, and ran into the wall.

  They turned. She fired. Ad-bots scattered in an eruption of shimmering plastisteel and glowing holograms.

  The streak of azure energy passed through Seneschal’s back. His body collapsed inward at the point of contact, as if molded from wet sand. The brief pulse twisted through him as he whirled, leaving a narrow trench with the glow of embers along the edge. Black smoke exuded from both sides. For an instant, he reacted with alarm, which gave way to anger. Unlike bullets, the energy weapon could hurt him.

  She lined up another shot, but aborted it as Icarus sprayed the corner, rolling behind cover with her back pressed into the wall. Kirsten suppressed the urge to scream as flakes of silvery tile shattered and popped around her, a rain of ceramic bits falling on her head. Bullet holes offered a weak view of the two abyssals; like any modern slug, their attack had gone right through the two-foot square column.

  Oh, shit.

  Kirsten edged to her left in case he fired again.

  “Stay out of our way. This does not concern you,” growled Seneschal. “You are clueless. If I see you again, I will kill you.”

  The E-90 rested warm against her shoulder as she clutched it with both hands. “It’s not so simple,” she yelled. “You don’t belong here, and I will not allow you to hurt the innocent on a demented mission of vengeance.”

  “Innocent?” Icarus joined in, half chuckling. “There’s no such thing as innocent.”

  “Look, I’m sorry you died.” She crouched, peering through the lowest bullet hole at them. “That doesn’t change the fact I have to send you back where you belong.”

  “Oh, listen to this one, Ic.” Seneschal’s laugh raked down her spine, cold as a torrent of icicles. “She wants to play.” He whirled with a flare of his coat and strode toward the corner, unconcerned that she might shoot him.

  Kirsten backed off and stuck the E-90 into its holster. When Seneschal rounded the holed column, his eyes shot as wide as his skull would allow. Half of Kirsten’s body glowed with the blue-white purity of the lash; her eyes flared the same hue. As soon as he was in view, she snapped the tendril through him.

  Her face twisted with determination as she growled. The astral lash caught in his chest, plumes of ebon vapor boiling out from the point of contact. Seneschal howled, knocked to a knee by the pain of it. She leaned her weight into the ethereal cord and tore it loose. A great blast of heat and blackness poured through a fluttery, gaping hole in Seneschal’s chest.

  The look of abject fear on his face was unmistakable.

  “Tag. You’re it.” She winked.

  Sounds of a fight came from the other side of the column. Icarus yelled in surprise, followed by the scuffing of boots and the dull thud of body blows. Dorian grunted, then a heavy slam. She imagined him judo flipping Icarus to the ground, or maybe it was Dorian going down. Punching noises continued amid growls of pain and anger from both sides. She could not worry about that right now. Before Seneschal could recover from the shock of the first hit, she swiped the whip across his chest a second time.

  It hit him with the force of a truck, knocking him six feet airborne. He hit the ground on his chest, sliding, leaving a trail of black ichor over the polished white floor. Kirsten ran after him, winding the lash behind her for an overhead strike. As she brought it down, Seneschal dissipated into a cloud of dark fog, and her strike found no resistance.

  The sheet of vapor sucked itself into a vertical column and coalesced behind her. Seneschal cracked her across the back of the head with the stock of his rifle before she could turn. It felt less than solid, as if made of inflexible rubber rather than metal. Dazed, she stumbled forward and fell to her knees. Behind her somewhere, Dorian gurgled.

  “Man, pity they don’t teach pigs how to fight worth a da―”

  Icarus’s taunt cut off with an “oof.” Kirsten rolled to her side, startled out of her daze by the rattle of a weapon as Seneschal aimed at her back. Her eyes focused past him for a split second; a fist in Icarus’s gut lifted him inches off the ground. The demonic mercenary fell on his back, Dorian pounced.

  Kirsten rolled to the side. Seneschal’s weapon chattered. Floor coating stripped away to bare concrete in chunks. Sprawled on the ground, she had nowhere to hide. With no other option, she swallowed her fear and reached out with her mind, grasping at his essence. Her arms shook from the effort as she fought him. Seneschal roared as he strained to pivot the gun at her again. Psionic energy welled out of her with such intensity a shroud of luminous vapor burst out of her hand, a transparent firelike glow crawling up her arm to the elbow. She pushed him back, working her way to her feet as the battle of wills went back and forth.

  “You…” Seneschal took a step back, grunting, struggling. Grey eyes dilated; fear and anger sparred within.

  Icarus rolled out from the hold, sweeping Dorian’s legs and dropping him hard on his back. Dorian sprang up, his three quick punches deflected with ease. Kirsten screamed, face reddening with determination as the strange fire crept over her shoulders and down the other arm. Her hands flared as she thrust them forward at Seneschal, the phantom light vanished in an intense flash. He sailed airborne, flying backwards into the tile-covered column. He crunched into it, and slid to the ground in a fall of silver ceramic chips. She ran in, taking advantage of his disorientation to rake the astral lash through him again.

  Seneschal’s roar broke all the windows within fifty yards.

  Dorian attacked Icarus again; the former covert operative leaned to the side and caught him in the shoulder with a knife as he went by. Wisps of energy drifted from a slice that sealed within seconds. Icarus lunged, stabbing him twice more for three tries. Her partner was weakening.

&n
bsp; Kirsten fixed her eyes on Seneschal, who appeared drained to the point of near-delirium. He looked less real; his eyes had taken on a soft crimson glow. Thick shadowy darkness leaked from his body, pooling around his legs where he knelt at the base of the smashed column.

  She called them.

  Her left hand pointed at Seneschal, focusing her power to hold him down. She cringed as his desperation mounted, every ounce of her strength tested. Seneschal struggled as if chained to the ground, growling at the force trapping him.

  Dorian shouted, landing a lucky punch to Icarus’s chin that sent him staggering. The ambiance shifted. Seneschal’s eyes flared bright red. Shadows thickened and dozens of whispering voices filled the air. Forms welled up from puddles of darkness seeping in along the gaps in the floor tiles. Harbingers approached from every side.

  Emboldened by their presence, Dorian pursued his advantage. He leapt at Icarus, baton aimed for the back of the head. The commando whirled, trapping Dorian’s arm and winding up kneeling behind him with a knife at his throat. Dorian groaned, trapped in the expert grip of a military-trained assassin.

  “Send them away, or he dies,” rasped Seneschal.

  Kirsten’s eyes shifted to her partner, the pang of worry weakened her focus long enough to let Seneschal stand. Feeling him move, she regained her concentration and pushed him into the wall.

  “I can’t… I can only call them,” she said, forcing the words out.

  Dorian elbowed Icarus in the gut without effect. “Finish it, I’m already dead.”

  Seneschal stared into her eyes. “First, we will kill your partner.”

  Icarus dragged Dorian backwards, shying away from the mass of approaching silver eyes. They seemed less interested in him; his strength had not diminished as much as Seneschal’s. Icarus sent a baleful glare at Kirsten, at the traces of white vapor simmering along her shoulders, the faint hint of luminosity in her blue eyes, and swallowed. Kirsten tilted her head, wondering why out of nowhere, he seemed terrified of her.

  “Then we kill your little friend.” Seneschal’s lips curled into an evil smile, black fog leaking through his teeth. “Evan, is it?”

  Fear, desperation, and anger burst through her. Her concentration faltered; Evan’s face filled her mind.

  Icarus loosened his grip, retreating from her. Dorian squirmed loose, grabbed the wrist holding the knife at his throat, and jammed it up to the hilt through Icarus’s chest armor. Dreadlocks shifted as he looked down at the knife, regarding the wound as a triviality. A quick, but powerful, punch to Dorian’s throat knocked him flat.

  Seneschal hissed at Icarus, a demonic rumble manifest in his voice. He leapt through Kirsten’s distracted effort, catching her across the cheek with a punch that put her headfirst into the ground. Growling, he stalked after her, but hesitated at the approaching curtain of Harbingers. They engulfed her, forcing him back, and he backed away. Icarus took off along the concourse, diving into the ground some distance away. Seneschal backpedaled, eyes darting around as they closed in. The whispering intensified, and he turned to flee at a full run.

  Kirsten sat up, cradling her face, shivering as the mass of shadows swarmed through the corridor into a cyclone of darkness sliding down the bright mall corridor. The whispers distanced with the ring of black, until it vanished through the same point of floor where Seneschal had gone. Their presence receded, the area returned to normal, and she glanced at Dorian stumbling over.

  “Almost got him.” She wiped a bloody nose.

  “You okay?” He appraised the developing bruise on her cheek.

  A stimpak hissed into her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve had worse. Think they’ll get him?”

  Dorian cast a worried look at the spot of floor. “That would be too easy.”

  irsten was crying by the time she hung up the vid call. Not a loud, sobby sort of crying, just silent tears down her face. Evan was having a great day at school and had no idea that a creature out of the Abyss had threatened him. She warned Eze about it, but wanted to talk to Evan anyway. She could not get the joy in his eyes out of her mind, and it made the tears come harder.

  “Dammit, Dorian. If he…”

  The cool presence of his hand settled into her shoulder. “Abyssals are vicious, but they are single-minded. They will use anything they can to get to you. If Seneschal seriously means to harm Evan, he won’t do anything until after they get Vikram. He can’t help it.”

  She looked up, gathering her composure as an army of police and techs invaded the mall.

  “Thanks for the all-clear, Agent.” An older man in a blue Division 2 jumpsuit saluted her. “Frank Martinez, Tech Four. I’m in command of the CSI team.” He scratched his head, glancing around at the damage. “Word is I’m not gonna care for your explanation.”

  “Heh.” She chuckled, surveying the damage. “What’s not to like? Just a pair of demons determined to destroy the ghost of the man who killed them.” She got up, surprised to find Martinez at eye level. “Was anyone hurt?”

  He nodded. “Yes, about two dozen people if you factor in the incident in the street outside. Fortunately, no one died. So… demons?” He blessed himself. “Seriously?”

  After the short-short version of events, Tech Four Martinez wandered back to his crew, shaking his head.

  “Stopping paranormal entities and making alcoholics. I think your work here is done.” Dorian tried to pat her on the shoulder but just whiffed through.

  “Maybe in another hundred years, people will stop looking at me like that.” She crossed her arms, watching the crime scene techs scurry about in search of forensic evidence for several minutes. “We can’t let them kill Vikram again. If they get him before I stop them, who knows what they’ll do. Right now, they have a common motivation; without him, they might go their separate ways.” Kirsten shivered at the thought.

  “So how do we find an undead deck jockey?” Dorian grinned. “Not as if he’s going to be logged into the GlobeNet. We can’t just ping him.”

  Kirsten blinked. “Yes, we can. I just need some quiet.”

  A hundred yards away, at the primary intersection of the mall’s two main passageways, she escaped the bustle of the investigation. Twenty abandoned merchant pushcarts surrounded an enormous round area packed with soil, flowers, and trees. Holographic birds danced among the disc of nature stuck smack dab in the center of the mall. A great skylight let the sun flood down all six floors, gleaming from the silvered sides of motorized stairs all around the perimeter of a vertical channel. Devoid of people, the courtyard possessed a degree of serenity quite out of place for West City.

  “If you have an idea, better get on with it.” Dorian glanced over his shoulder. “They’re going to be letting people back in soon.”

  She sat on a bench, closed her eyes, and concentrated on the name Vikram Medhi. Much the same way Darksight allowed her to see without light by opening her eyes to the Astral realm, she pushed mental energy out instead. A silent calling directed at him, beaconing for him in the dark. Dorian heard it right away, nodding with immediate understanding of what she did. Kirsten gave him a waypoint, a lantern in the dark to seek. It was up to him to follow it.

  “Hello.”

  Kirsten relaxed her mind, opening her eyes to find a nervous Indian man in front of her.

  “What the devil did you do to them?” he asked, shifting about.

  “Thank you for trusting me.” She stood. “I’m sorry; I almost got Seneschal but…”

  Dorian grumbled. “You should have finished him off; don’t worry about me.”

  Vikram looked between them. “I saw him running with those… things chasing him.”

  “Yeah. They got away. You should be safe for a little while, at least while he is weakened.”

  “Probably a few days,” added Dorian. “I’m not entirely sure how it works for them now, but abyssals don’t have remains or attachments to go to in order to recover their energy. It will quite likely take him some time to get back to strength.”

/>   “I’d like you to stay with me, if you can.” Kirsten’s innocent smile seemed to ease Vikram’s fidgeting. “They’re bound after you for some reason. You are safest with me.”

  He gnawed at his fingers, eyeing the atrium, jumping at any moving shadow. “They killed me once already. I had a feeling someone was coming, so I rigged a dead man switch. When my pulse stopped, the entire floor turned into a fireball.”

  “Took them with you.” Dorian seemed annoyed. “I wonder if that counts as killing?”

  Kirsten shrugged. “We don’t have time for philosophy class.”

  “No, we don’t,” said Vikram. “They’re quite upset at me. That Seneschal had a reputation for being a perfectionist. I think he’s angrier he failed to anticipate the bomb than he is about being dead.”

  “Do you know anything about what happened there after you died? Who made the silver circle?”

  Vikram shrugged. “I am not certain, it just appeared one night. I did not see anyone draw it.”

  Dorian squinted at him.

  “Okay.” She sighed. “Will you stay close to me for a few days?”

  Vikram cringed at a change in light. “You can protect me?”

  “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. Of course, the best thing you can do to protect yourself is to move on.”

  “Move on?” He tilted his head.

  “Transcend to the next world, go through the silver light.” She waved her hand in a circle as if to emphasize the point. “Do you hear the voices of any of your family calling you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know why you are lingering behind? It can’t be related to your murder; everyone responsible for it is already dead.”

  Dorian moved his hand off his mouth long enough to speak. “Maybe he wants the whole company to go down, like Albert.”

  “Oh, for”―she mumbled, almost dropping the G word―”‘s sake. What do you feel is keeping you here?”

  Vikram thought for a moment, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked away, then down at the floor. “I had some evidence, on my Nishihama; data proving Lyris Corporation complicit in the deaths of several thousand people in the Middle East, Africa, and western China. I wanted to expose them to the world.”