by Tom Dowd
Kyle inclined his head in acknowledgment. "My pleasure." The girl gave him a squinty smile.
"And this," Truman said, extending his hand toward his wife, who rose gracefully to take it, "is my wife Elaine."
Kyle bowed slightly. "Your playing is excellent. It makes me regret not having continued with my own piano training."
Elaine Truman smiled graciously. "From what they tell me, you have your own art to be proud of."
Interesting turn of phrase, Kyle thought. "I think it's probably more a craft than an art, Mrs. Truman."
Daniel Truman placed his hand .on Kyle's shoulder. "And that's exactly why you're here, Mr. Teller," he said, guiding Kyle toward the sofas in the center of the room. Truman motioned him to the spot next to his daughter, while he and his wife settled themselves opposite.
Kyle sat down and straightened his jacket, acutely aware that he'd overdressed for the obviously casual Trumans. He pulled his Sony datacorder from a pocket and placed it on the arm of the couch. The flashing green light told him it was recording. Kyle wanted to get straight to business. 'The information you sent indicated that you need help in a matter involving your son Mitchell."
Truman nodded, picking up what looked like a tumbler full of real scotch from the small table next to his seat. He swirled the ice and liquid as he spoke. “Yes ... Mitchell."
"Our son has, to put it very simply, run off," said Elaine Truman.
"Alone or with someone?"
Truman looked up again. "With someone ... A girl named Linda Hayward, I believe."
Kyle nodded. "A romantic interest?"
"So it seems."
"He met her at some club," his wife added. "About three months ago."
"I take it you are opposed to this relationship?" Husband and wife replied with their eyes and facial expressions, but Melissa laughed sharply. Kyle turned toward her. "And I take it you are not."
Melissa shrugged. "I think they're overreacting."
"Please don't make this harder, Melissa," Truman said.
Kyle turned back to him. "What makes you believe your son has run off with this woman?"
"He said he would."
"How long has he been missing?"
"Just under a week," Mrs. Truman told him.
"And when did you first realize he was missing?"
"He didn't show up for his father's birthday party three nights ago."
"And that's when you first tried to contact him?"
Elaine Truman nodded. "I called him at home. There was no answer."
"And you sent someone to his apartment the next morning?"
She blinked, and Kyle saw a smile cross Truman's lips. "Yes ... but he wasn't there. There were apparently a number of e-mail messages waiting for him on his system too."
Kyle turned back to Daniel Truman. "I was first contacted yesterday morning by a Mr. Davress."
"He's on my personal staff and handles my private business contacts."
"He asked me to fly out here to Chicago immediately, but when I checked in at my hotel, I found a message indicating that I should wait until contacted. Did something happen to make you believe your son wasn't really missing?"
Elaine Turner's eyes flew to her husband, but he kept his gaze on Kyle. "My security advisor wanted some time to check you out."
"Of course." Kyle knew it must have squashed some toes at Knight Errant when they found out the senior Truman had gone outside their organization for assistance. Which brought up another question. "Was anyone from Knight Errant assigned to watch or protect your son?"
"No."
"Then you believe he was in no danger?"
"Danger?" asked Mrs. Truman, her face showing alarm.
"I'm concerned about the safety of all my children, Mr.Teller," Truman said firmly, his eyes darting toward Melissa. "Mitchell, however, didn't want protection. Only my daughter Madelaine has constant protection."
"The producers have guards around when I'm working," said Melissa, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I don't need an army following me around."
"Mitchell expressed similar sentiments," said Truman.
"Do you have any reason to believe he was in danger?"
"No."
"Have there been any threats to you recently that your security people have taken particularly seriously?"
"No," Truman said. "At least none I've heard about."
Kyle nodded. "Then you have no reason' to believe your son's disappearance is connected to anything beyond this woman, Linda Hayward?"
"No."
"You said that he'd told you he was going to run away with her?"
"We didn't like her, quite frankly, and he knew it," said Mrs. Truman. "He indicated that he'd disassociate himself from us in order to be with her."
"Can you think of any event or argument that might have precipitated his running off with her?"
Mr. and Mrs. Truman both shook their heads. Kyle turned toward Melissa, who said, "Nothing I know of."
"Did he speak to you about her?"
"Only once, a month ago. We talked by telecom," Melissa told him. "She was there with him."
Kyle turned back to the Trumans. "This may seem like an odd question, but can you tell me why you called me in?"
Both of them seemed surprised. Mrs. Truman spoke up quickly. "To find our son, of course."
"I understand you want him found. But why me? Why not simply use the more conventional resources of Knight Errant? Why the need for a magician? Or why not use Knight Errant's magical assets?"
Elaine Truman seemed confused, but her husband stiffened a little. "I'm not sure I understand the point of your question, Mr. Teller, but I'll answer it: We want to find our son. Quickly.
"As I understand it, you used your magic to find my niece directly rather than following the slow steps involved in a normal investigation. I want that speed."
"Very well," Kyle said. "I simply wanted to know if you had some reason to believe magic was already involved." He paused and then said, "Can you give me any information on Linda Hayward?"
Truman shook his head. "We don't know anything. Only her name."
Kyle looked at Mrs. Truman. "There was nothing in his apartment? No address or phone number?"
Her face flushed slightly. "No."
Interesting, he thought. When he glanced over at Melissa, she just shrugged. "All I know is that he met her in a club."
"Do you know which one?"
"The Kaleidoscope, near Fullerton and Halsted."
"In the Noose."
"Yeah. Interesting place. If you're into jet core rock."
Kyle turned back to the older Trumans. "Finding Mitchell shouldn't be a problem, but I'll need access to his apartment. Did he provide a ritual sample to Knight Errant?"
Truman frowned. "Ritual sample?"
"A blood or tissue sample gathered using a special magic ritual. The sample can be used in a ritual, like the one I'll do, to find the subject"
Truman looked over to Hanna Uljaken, who was standing silently near the window. "Hanna, do you know ..."
"I'm sorry Mr. Truman, but it's my understanding that he refused."
"Damn," said Truman. "That boy's too stubborn."
Mrs. Truman looked concerned. "Will this be a problem?"
Kyle shook his head. "Shouldn't be, but it will take more time."
He stood and smoothed down the sides of his suit jacket. The others also stood up. "If you can get me into his apartment, I'd like to perform the ritual as soon as possible."
Mr. Truman nodded. "Of course. Hanna will take you right away."
4
There was a royal blue and black Mitsubishi Nightsky waiting for him and Hanna Uljaken when they came out front. Behind the limousine was a second car, this one a rather mundane-looking ToyotaCorp Traveller. Leaning against it was a big, bulky ork in a dark suit and long coat. Kyle couldn't see past the limo's tinted windows, but he was sure at least one other person was inside. As he and Hanna Uljaken approached
, the ork stepped forward.
"Mr. Facile," she said. "I take it you're to be our escort?"
The ork nodded and turned toward Kyle. "Mr. Teller?" he said. "I'm Lieutenant William Facile."
"Knight Errant, I take it," said Kyle.
"Yes, sir. Mr. Truman drought it would be a good idea if we tagged along."
Kyle preferred to conduct his business without their presence, but Truman was paying him enough, just, to ignore the inconvenience. He decided to play it frosty. "Yes, a good idea. Have you and your partner worked with magic before?"
To a limited extent, sir. We've worked in operations with magical assets attached."
"But you've never directly interfaced with a practitioner?"
"No, sir," said Facile. "But I wouldn't expect it to be a problem."
"Nor I." Kyle turned to Hanna Uljaken. "Let's get going," he said.
* * * *
Mitchell Truman lived in a high-rise condominium on the lake, almost directly east of Truman Tower. On the short ride over, Kyle watched the sun struggling to penetrate me clouds. It looked like Chicago's famous weather was as changeable as ever.
Both cars of the little convoy drove directly into the underground garage, where Hanna Uljaken's palm print got me four of them access to the private elevator and men to me Mitch Truman's fortiem-floor apartment.
Kyle was mildly surprised to see mat the place was furnished in modern oriental, sparse and efficient. There were six rooms: master and guest bedrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, and a spare room that the Truman boy had turned into an exercise room. The view of the lake was stunning, the window canted slightly north to show the shoreline. Again, Kyle could see the greenery and brick of Elemental Hall off a short distance along the lake.
"How long has Mitchell lived here?" Kyle asked Uljaken.
"Just over a year. The condo was a gift from his father on Mitch's sixteenth birthday."
"Rather young for his own crash, don't you think?"
Uljaken tilted her head and smiled cooly. "I suspect Mr. Truman would be a better judge of that than I."
"But he was surprised Mitch ran off."
"I'm not privy to Mr. Truman's emotions, Mr. Teller. You'd have to ask him."
Kyle sighed. He was standing in the slightly raised dining area looking out over the lake, but turned back to face her. "I'm not asking you what Mr. Truman did think or feel, I'm asking what you think was going through his mind."
"I don't believe I'm qualified to make those kinds of judgments, Mr. Teller."
"Of course you are—you're his personal assistant," Kyle insisted, trying to catch her eyes. "You're expected to make such judgments all the time. And if Daniel Truman wasn't totally pleased with your ability to read him he'd probably have found someone else long ago."
She seemed to be formulating a reply, but Kyle didn't give her an opening. "Mr. Truman also told you to assist me in any way you can. Answering my questions with your best professional opinion is one of the best ways to do that"
Uljaken nodded, and he could feel the shift in her resolve. "You're right, of course." She glanced over at the two Knight Errant guards. "If you'll excuse us?"
Facile looked uncomfortable, and the second man, shorter and even darker-skinned, glanced at him for instructions.
"Nothing's going to happen for a few hours, Lieutenant," Kyle told him. "It will take me that long to prepare my magics. You can wait in the hall."
Facile's eyes narrowed, but he gestured to the other officer to follow him out the door. As the two security men were leaving the room, Kyle quickly shifted to astral perception to view their auras. Both had strong auras that almost sparked in some spots and darkened to virtually nothing in others. As the door closed behind them, he slowly scanned the room. It was dull, the only strong sources of mana being himself, Hanna Uljaken and her earring, and some leafy tropical plants. His senses returned to normal.
"You did that in the lobby of the Tower too," she said. "Are you looking at things magically?"
Smart girl, Kyle thought. More so because he hadn't caught her noticing what he'd been doing.
"Yes, I am," he said. "Magicians have the ability to perceive the energy wavelength that magical and living items emanate. You can learn a lot from that."
She nodded. "And the two guards?"
"Both human and unAwakened. No sign of magical talents, though it's always conceivable a magician could mask his aura. In the case of these two, I seriously doubt it. AU that cyberware would keep them from being able to use magic."
"Could you tell what kind?"
Kyle shook his head. "Not really, except for certain guesses based on the location and appearance of deformities in the aura. I'd say Facile and his man are fairly standard muscle-boys: enhanced reflexes and maybe some neuromuscular augmentation and combat cyberware."
"You come pretty close on Facile," Uljaken said appreciatively. "I've seen his file. He's got a Richmond series-twelve neuromuscular accelerator, a Fuchi MPX-R headware comp and data-access package, Mitsuhama-Zeis ocular light-amplification systems, and a recent upgrade to level two for his Ares smartlink combat system."
"Quite a package," Kyle said, "for a lieutenant."
"My sentiments exactly," she agreed. "Facile is part of the team that's been attached to Truman ever since Knight Errant bought out Winter Security's contract with Truman Technologies about three months ago."
"That's unusual."
"Very. It seems Knight Errant has decided to magnify its profile here in Chicago. The city's law enforcement contract with Eagle Security comes up for renewal in eighteen months ..."
"And KE would love to pick up that juicy contract, so they're jacking up their local presence and commitment."
"Precisely," she said.
"Interesting. And Mr. Truman was agreeable to having KE buy out Winter's contract with Truman Technologies? Couldn't he have just voided the contract?"
"Our contract with Winter was nontransferable. But I think Mr. Truman was flattered."
Kyle paused a moment before changing the subject. Now that Hanna Uljaken seemed more willing to talk about her employer, he was leery of any big questions that might make her clam up again. But he had no choice. "How would you characterize Mr. Truman's relationship with his son?" he asked. "Good, bad, indifferent ..."
Hanna Uljaken blinked and glanced away before answering. "I'd say that things have been pretty dismal lately."
"Mitchell bucked under the authority and demands of his father?" It was a reaction Kyle understood all too well.
"Yes, but it goes deeper than that," she said quietly. "Mitchell is bisexual, and it's been a strain on his relationship with his father ever since Mr. Truman found out"
"How long has that been?"
'Two years. The truth came out after an unfortunate incident in London."
"Then why is Truman so opposed to his son's involvement with this Linda Hayward?"
"She's supposedly older than I am."
Kyle grinned. "Damned if you don't and damned if you do."
She grinned back. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"
Kyle took off his suit jacket and tossed in on the sofa. "Well, now that we're here, we'd better get this started."
Hanna Uljaken showed some surprise at the sight of the Ceska light pistol tucked into the holster under his left shoulder. He grinned again and shrugged as he unslung the holster and tossed it next to the jacket "So you have no reason to believe or suspect that Mitch Truman has done anything other than run off with this woman?"
"No, I don't."
"And there've been no ransom demands or mysterious contacts with the Truman family that you know of since Mitchell was last seen?"
"No."
"Then my first step is to try and locate him. Did Mr. Truman tell you anything about the techniques I'll be using or how I tracked down his niece?"
"No, but I did read the Omni and Popular Mysticism articles on the subject."
; Kyle laughed. "Well, don't be surprised if reality is a tad more boring than what the press makes out."
"But you were with the FBI section described in the Omni article, weren't you?"
"If you know enough to ask the question, you already know the answer."
Uljaken smiled slightly. "KE's background check was fairly exhaustive."
Kyle looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Have you ever seen ritual magic performed up close, Ms. Uljaken?"
She shook her head. "No, I haven't."
"Then I'd like you to assume, unless I tell you otherwise, that everything that happens is intended and expected."
"All right."
Kyle turned and looked up slightly, shifting the focus of his thoughts. "Come to me," he said softly to the air ...
In that instant a swirl of gold light appeared next to Kyle, and Hanna Uljaken jumped visibly. The light quickly coalesced into the figure of an Amerindian man of just past middle age. He wore black denim pants and a wide tan leather belt with a bold silver and turquoise buckle. Over his clean white cotton shirt was a tattered blue denim jacket with the sleeves torn off. Two silver bracelets hung from his right wrist, and a wide band of brown leather circled the left. His hair, its glossy black touched with silver, was bound into a single, unbraided pony tail that hung down from under the wide brim of his black hat. Tied around the hat was a band of cloth woven in red, white, and black. The man's appearance was striking, even handsome, but his eyes were translucent and tinged with gold. Somewhat incongruously, he was also wearing black canvas sneakers.
Kyle turned toward her. "Hanna Uljaken, this is Seeks-the-Moon. Moon, this is Ms. Hanna Uljaken."
"I know," the spirit said, bowing gracefully, "and I am charmed."
"Seeks-the-Moon is my sociare spiritus—my ally spirit"
The spirit looked askance. "I see your Latin is still quite lacking."
Kyle ignored him. "He will be assisting me in the ritual."
Uljaken nodded, but had maneuvered herself slightly away from Seeks-the-Moon. "Will you need me to do anything?" she asked.
"No, but I'd like you present to verify any information that develops."
She pointed to a chair in the far corner. "Can I sit over there?”
