Shadowrun: Burning Bright

by Tom Dowd

  "Then why don't we just take Lieutenant Facile's sugges­tion and find the boy?" asked Truman. Kyle sensed his opin­ion shifting toward immediate action.

  Kyle stood up from the couch where he'd been sitting. "In this case, Mr. Truman, ritual sorcery is a lot like a com­mando raid. By initiating the ritual we're beginning a mag­ical assault against your son and those who may be holding him. It can get very dangerous, very quickly."

  "I assure you, Mr. Teller, that Knight Errant has the best combat mages in the business," said Facile, irritation edging his voice. "There's little chance that something will go wrong."

  "I don't buy that," said Kyle. "We have no intelligence on what we're up against If we aren't dealing with anything more than some wiz-kid mage gang, then I'd agree there's probably nothing to worry about." He paused for effect. "But what if, for some reason, we're facing, say, Aztechnology magicians ..."

  "Ridiculous," cut in Facile, but Kyle could see that invok­ing the name of the corp which politically and mystically ruled what had once been Mexico and parts of Central America had provoked the desired response.

  Elaine Truman's face was ashen. "You don't think ..."

  "No, I don't," said Kyle. "The point is that we simply don't know who might be on the other end. So, just as you wouldn't stage a commando raid against some place you'd never seen before, with no clear idea of what forces were opposing you, to initiate a high-powered Sending now is foolish."

  'Then your solution is...?" asked Mr. Truman.

  "I suggest that we investigate conventionally for a few more days. Gain as much information as we can before de­ciding to take any direct actions." Kyle deliberately looked toward the Knight Errant lieutenant, who returned his gaze with one of challenge. "If we can't uncover anything more by men, initiating a powerful ritual may be the only choice."

  Truman looked over at his wife. "What do you think, Elaine?”

  She looked down at her hands, which were knotted to­gether in her lap. Her voice was barely audible. "If anything were to happen …"

  Truman took one of his wife's hands in his own. "All right, Mr. Teller, you have three days to investigate. If you don't turn up enough by then, we go with Lieutenant Facile's suggestion of bringing in Knight Errant full-power."

  "Excuse me, sir, but I would suggest ,we begin that right now," Kyle told him.

  "Oh?" Truman looked completely baffled.

  "I don't think you can risk the possibility that something very dangerous is going on. Knight Errant should increase its personnel and site-based security on the family." Kyle looked pointedly at Melissa. "All members of the family." She flushed and looked away.

  Truman nodded. "You can arrange that?" he asked Facile.

  "I can have increased security here within the hour," the lieutenant said smartly.

  "Excellent."

  I’d also like to add some elements of my own, if you don't mind," Kyle said.

  Truman must have noticed Facile's scowl, but he shook his head. "Not at all."

  Without further ado Kyle cleared his mind and let it fill with the sound and sensation of rushing air. He reached out with his thoughts, then called out both astrally and physi­cally, "Charlotte!"

  The air in the room cooled slightly and a breeze began. All present began to look around, and Melissa Truman stood up quickly. Kyle place his hand on her shoulder. "It's all right."

  The breeze seemed to come to the center of the room, where it hung swirling, an almost transparent vortex of air about the size of an average-sized dog. "Yes?" it said in a sharp, almost feminine voice.

  "This is an air elemental," explained Kyle. "It's mine. I created it. I command it."

  The vortex seemed to shift slightly, but spoke no more.

  "It's name is Charlotte," he said, and Mrs. Truman, though obviously frightened by the experience, managed a laugh. "I'm going to leave her here to protect this place."

  He focused his attention on the air spirit. He spoke its name and the spirit stilled. “The area of your concern are these two floors of this building, and the objects of your concern are these people." Kyle moved around the room and placed his hand on each of the Trumans in turn, naming him or her. He also indicated Lieutenant Facile, who was not amused, and Hanna Uljaken, who seemed distressed but nodded at Charlotte. Without moving, the spirit seemed to focus its attention on each one. "No one else is allowed on this floor unless accompanied by one of these people or one of them has given his permission. And you will deny entry to all spirits and all magic except mine," Kyle said. "You will continue with this task until I, and only I, command you otherwise."

  "I understand," Charlotte said.

  Kyle gestured with a quick pattern of calling, and a small ball of ethereal "fuzz" appeared above his hand. It hung there, rippling with white and dark blue energy for a mo­ment before two huge silver and black eyes opened in it. The onlookers gasped as the fuzzball gazed quickly around the room. "This is Delta, one of my watcher spirits," Kyle said. The eyes blinked.

  "Don't bother trying to communicate with him," Kyle told them. "He's barely smart enough to hold himself together. Watcher spirits do, however, make good messengers."

  As Kyle again turned his attention to the elemental, the watcher spirit suddenly seemed confused, as though trying to remember its own name. The contempt flowing from the air elemental toward it was palpable.

  "Charlotte, if this place or these people are endangered, you will send Delta to find and alert me," Kyle commanded.

  "I will," said the elemental. "But do not hold me responsible when that one fails."

  "He will not fail." Delta, the watcher, bounced up and down in place. Melissa laughed.

  "Charlotte, you will now begin you duties."

  The elemental seemed to nod, then faded from view. The air in the room stilled. The watcher spirit glanced around and then disappeared as well. Kyle sighed.

  Facile looked annoyed, but it was a few moments before anyone spoke.

  “I thought you were leaving it to guard ..." Truman began.

  "I am. The spirit is present in astral space. To manifest in the physical world is uncomfortable for it, so Charlotte will only do so when necessary. Rest assured that she is completely capable, if not more so, when in astral space."

  "But isn't that somewhere else?" asked Mrs. Truman.

  "Astral space? No. It's all around you—you just can't see it. Actually, if the light was bright enough, you might be able to see a slight area of 'distortion' indicating where Charlotte is."

  "Oh," she said.

  "If it's easier, think of her as being invisible," Kyle said kindly.

  Mrs. Truman tried to smile. "I'll try."

  Kyle smiled back. "Suffice it to say, Charlotte's here and if you need her you have only to speak her name." Kyle walked toward the windows, whose view of the darkening sky was now smeared by a light rain. He watched it for a few moments, men turned back to the others.

  "Lieutenant, could you get Knight Errant's extra security in motion?" Kyle's tone was more an order than a request. Seeming startled by the command, Facile looked over at Truman, who nodded.

  "All right," the lieutenant said grudgingly.

  "Good," Kyle said, then asked Truman, "Is Ms. Uljaken still available to assist me?"

  Truman nodded once more.

  "Good," Kyle repeated. "Now, as a first step, I'd like to talk to Melissa in private." Kyle addressed her directly: "If you don't mind."

  He could tell it was the very last thing she wanted, but after a sharp glance from her father, the girl said, "No, of course not. Anything I can do."

  * * * *

  Melissa Truman and Kyle moved out onto one of the balconies, where a retractable, hardened plastiglass bubble protected them from the rain. "You think I know something about where Mitch is, but I don't," she said angrily.

  Kyle motioned her to one of the Amazonia-style chairs and sat down in the one opposite. It creaked ominously under his merely average weight. "I know very little.
That's why I want to talk to you."

  "I told you. I really don't know anything."

  "You seem to know more than your parents about Linda Hayward."

  She shrugged. "Not really."

  "I'll bet everything they do know they learned from you."

  Melissa looked away. "They don't pay much attention to us."

  "Is that why Mitch ran off?"

  She sighed. "Partially."

  "So he told you he was planning to."

  "No," she said, scowling. "It seems obvious, though."

  "Why?"

  "Dad was slinging him drek and Mom refused to meet her."

  "You only saw her that once, in the background on the telecom screen."

  She turned away and seemed to blush slightly. "I never said she was in the background. She and Mitch were quite friendly."

  "But that was the only time you saw her?"

  "No, not exactly ..."

  "Then you did see her other times? Did you meet her?"

  "No, I only saw her. From a distance, at the club."

  "The Kaleidoscope?"

  "Yes."

  "She was a regular?"

  "I guess. But I'm not, so I can't really say."

  "Were you there when Mitch met her?"

  "No."

  "Do you know how it happened."

  "No."

  "Has she been seen there since Mitch disappeared?"

  "Sh—" Melissa stopped herself. "I don't know," she said after a pause, almost quietly.

  Kyle shook his head. "Look, Melissa, were it not for the fact that magic was involved, I'd agree with you about leav­ing your brother alone." She seemed to cringe slightly, and Kyle suspected she was reacting to the fact that she might have blundered. "But the fact is, your brother is still a minor under your parents' protection. Add to that fact that your fa­ther is going to be paying me a lot of money to find him, and what you get is the unavoidable fact that I will find him."

  He leaned in closer to her. "Despite what aspersions Lieu­tenant Facile might want to cast, I am not exactly a weak magician. The ward that protected your brother was mighty powerful. That's got me concerned."

  "All right, all right," she said, unable to meet his gaze. "I checked around. She's been at the Kaleidoscope at least once since my parents lost contact with Mitch."

  "And your brother was with her?"

  Melissa winced. "Yes."

  Kyle leaned back. "Thank you, Melissa. I know you don't like any of this, but I swear I'm going to try make it all come out all right."

  She nodded, then hesitated as though having something to say but not sure she wanted to say it. "There's something else you should know," she said finally.

  "Oh?" said Kyle.

  "She's in a gang."

  7

  "Melissa described Linda Hayward as taller than average, maybe one hundred and eighty centimeters," said Kyle. It was late that evening, and he was stretched out on the couch in the sitting room of his hotel suite. Hanna Uljaken sat with a tray of snack foods at her side, writing notes on her datapad. Seeks-the-Moon was nearby, carefully inspecting a large bowl of fruit. "Black hair, shoulder length, bright blue eyes, pouty mouth," continued Kyle.

  Uljaken looked up at the last bit of description. Kyle shrugged. "Her words, not mine. Melissa also said Hayward had a good body, and that she thought it was all hers."

  "Meaning?" said Seeks-the-Moon, looking up from his investigation.

  "That it wasn't cosmetic or surgical."

  "Ah," said the spirit. "And here I thought we might have something kinky."

  "Give it time," Kyle said. "The kicker is the gang affiliation." He sat up. "Ms. Uljaken, did the database search come up with anything on the gang name 'Desolation Angels' that Melissa gave us?"

  "Nothing that our search programs could find in any of the public records. Mr. Truman has agreed to have someone from research and development look into it. Knight Errant is also investigating."

  'Truman's loaning us a decker?"

  She smiled. "Were he not working for us, I suppose that's what he'd be." She glanced down almost shyly, then back up at him. "You know, it's all right if you call me Hanna." She smiled.

  Kyle returned the smile. "Would that be appropriate?"

  "It could be."

  "Should I leave?" asked Seeks-the-Moon, biting loudly into an apple as he took a seat next to Kyle.

  Uljaken glared at the spirit, then turned back to Kyle. "I thought you said spirits didn't like being, what did you say, 'manifest'?"

  "Some of us don't," Seeks-the-Moon said before Kyle could answer. "Unlike those poor elementals who must force themselves into an ill-fitting physical body to be manifest, I have an actual physical form. Courtesy of him." The spirit smiled and gestured at Kyle. "Sculpted from the primal po­tential, cast by the grace of will, and kept extant by the sim­ple fact that banishing me would truly be a pain in the ass."

  Kyle laughed softly. "It's true. I've let him get too pow­erful."

  Seeks-the-Moon doffed his hat.

  Hanna laughed, and just then the telecom beeped.

  Kyle looked at Seeks-the-Moon, then sighed and pulled himself up from the conch. "I'll get it."

  "Hate the things," said Seeks-the-Moon to Hanna. "Won't touch 'em."

  Kyle sat down at the desk, swung the arm holding the flat screen out to a more comfortable viewing position, and hit the Connect key. William Facile's face appeared on the screen.

  "We checked on your 'Desolation Angels'," the ork said, "but no one's got any record of it being a gang name. Not Eagle either or the Feds."

  "Any other occurrences?" Kyle asked.

  "Yes, an old one. Apparently it was the title of a music disk back eighty years or so. A rock and roll band named Bad Company recorded it. There was also a note that the cover image became a popular design on motorcycle jackets of that era."

  "So Melissa Truman may simply have seen Hayward wearing one of these vintage jackets and assumed a gang af­filiation."

  Facile nodded. "That would be my guess.'

  "And what about the Kaleidoscope Club? Anything on that yet?"

  "Not really. Just the usual drek. Every organized crime faction in town is said to own it, but it's actually controlled by a local corp called the Caleb Group. They own four clubs."

  "Who owns them?"

  "They're public. About eight hundred and ninety-two in­vestors."

  "Who're the principals?"

  "Three people, all with four percent."

  Kyle sighed. "Dead end. Nobody with enough ownership worth tracing. I assume they're all legit."

  "I'd really rather not bog down Knight Errant's computers conducting background checks on nine hundred people."

  "Your call," Kyle said, "but is Linda Hayward on the list of investors?"

  Facile blinked, and then reached down to work his com­puter. A moment later his eyes narrowed. "Yes, she is."

  "Great. Let me know who else interesting turns up on that list." Kyle reached for the command keys, said: "I'll check in again later", disconnected, and Facile faded to black. "Interesting," said Hanna.

  "Very," Kyle agreed. "Could you do me a favor and have your datapad re-read the profile we got on her."

  Hanna nodded and keyed in some commands to the pad. A moment later, it spoke in a clear masculine voice: "Results of a public records search-check on Linda Hayward. In­formation gathered: one correlation. Linda Kathleen Hayward. Date of birth, 8 March 2029, Rush-Presbyterian Hospital, Chicago. Parents, Nancy Arnold Hayward and John Michael Hayward, deceased 2039. Economic records show employment with Davidion Financial until four years .ago. No registered employment since. Residence records show rented housing at 3121 West George, Chicago, until four years ago. No residence record since. Education records show a degree in management and finance from the Univer­sity of Illinois, Chicago, 2043. No other records found."

  "Again," said Hanna, "not promising."

  "It's like information on someone who's slipped o
ff the edge of the world," Kyle mused. "Everything on her is four years old. She's completely dropped out of public record."

  "What do you make of it?"

  "Well, if we'd found nothing, I'd have said for sure she'd gone over to the shadows," Kyle said.

  "Become a shadowrunner?" asked Hanna, almost incredu­lously. "Is it that easy?"

  Kyle laughed. "No. If she were good or smart, there'd be no records by now. They're four years old, which is starting to leave a cold trail. But she's still using her own name." He shrugged. "I just don't know."

  He sighed. "But if I run into her at the Kaleidoscope to­night I'll be sure to ask her."

  * * * *

  "That wasn't necessary," Kyle told Seeks-the-Moon through the telepathic link they shared as master and ally spirit. Kyle disliked this method of communication with the spirit because, in his own mind, Seeks-the-Moon's voice sounded too much like his own voice. Standing at the rail overlooking the Kaleidoscope's main dance floor, besieged by untold thousands of watts of grinding, pounding, abrasive jet core rock and roll, it was the only way to talk.

  The spirit shrugged even though he too spoke telepathically. "The doorman was a joker. We were obviously far more genuine than the fakers he let in ahead of us. I simply proved it."

  "You didn't have to burst into flames."

  "We're in, aren't we?"

  "Yes, but odds are we've been noticed. Being inconspic­uous is out of the question."

  "Why didn't you tell me you wanted subtlety? It's not the approach you usually favor."

  Kyle held up his hand to silence Seeks-the-Moon's banter­ing. "Okay, okay," he said. "We have a decent idea of who we're looking for, so let's split up and see what we can see."

  The spirit shrugged again. "As you wish. If I locate Linda Hayward, should I call you?"

  "It would be appreciated."

  Seeks-the-Moon stuck his hands in his pockets and moved out through the crowd. Kyle knew the spirit was uncomfort­able amid the chaos of music and dancers, but he also knew that Moon's ability to see in both the physical world and the astral one simultaneously would be invaluable in case of danger.