Shadowrun: Burning Bright

by Tom Dowd

  Kyle also saw many patches of dark, places in the city where the creations of man were strong enough to dominate the living auras that inhabited them. The Shattergraves of old downtown Chicago was a dark blight, a scar across what had once been the heart of the city. That, however, was not Kyle's destination, but Truman Tower, still south of him.

  He soared that way, high above the city, which passed as a prismatic blur beneath him. The Tower soon loomed be­fore him, cold and dim in astral space, but recognizable by its shape and location. Dim patches of life could be seen emanating from within it, but the non-living obviously domi­nated.

  Kyle shot toward the penthouse and entered through the lakeside windows that opened into what the Trumans used as their family room. Seated on the central couches were Melissa and her sister Madeleine, whom Kyle had met only in passing at the hospital. She was older by nearly a decade than either Melissa or Mitchell, and was lighter of complexion as well as build.

  Entering the room, he hovered there as Charlotte also en­tered from the floor below. She braked to a quick stop in front of him.

  "Master," came the reverberations of her voice through astral space. "The watcher found you!"

  "What happened?" Kyle asked her.

  "The area you told me to guard was entered by another spirit," the elemental told him. "I sensed it and moved to strike at it, but it sensed me also and fled before I could reach it. I did not pursue, as you did not instruct me to."

  "No, you did well. Did you see what it was?"

  "I could not," Charlotte replied. "Its coloration was dark."

  "Dark?" asked Kyle. "It was weak?"

  "No, it was powerful, but its colors were dark."

  That puzzled Kyle. He'd never heard of any spirit with dark coloration. Then again, there were many things about this that he—

  Something was wrong. The two women had stood up and were backing away across the room, frightened by something in his vicinity. He turned and looked behind, but saw only the dark opacity of the plasteel windows. He and Charlotte were the only beings present in the room beside Melissa and Madeleine.

  Of course. He was unmasked and radiating power, which meant he was probably leaking some of that energy into the physical world, and Charlotte's presence was probably compounding the problem. The result was undoubtedly an area of haze or distortion hanging in the room. Between the two of them they might even be dumping off enough energy into the physical world to make the area glow slightly.

  "We need to manifest," he told Charlotte.

  "Very well," the spirit said grudgingly.

  Kyle willed his astral form into synchrony with the physical world, and then allowed himself to appear there, ghostly and insubstantial. It was the best he could manage while he was a spirit without body.

  The women were startled, and began to race toward the nearest doorway. Kyle held out his hand. "Melissa, Madeleine!" he called. "It's all right. It's Kyle Teller!"

  They paused a moment as the more familiar form, at least for Melissa, of Charlotte appeared next to him. Slowly, recognition dawned on Melissa's face, though Madeleine still seemed frightened.

  "Jesus fraggin' Christ!" Melissa said. "You scared the drek out of us!"

  Kyle smiled and shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't realize you'd be able to see signs of Charlotte and me. Manifesting seemed to be the only thing to do once you noticed us."

  Melissa turned toward her sister. "Maddy, you remember Mr. Teller from the hospital."

  Madeleine Truman nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do. Of course, he looked slightly different then."

  Melissa laughed. "Yes, I suppose he did."

  Kyle started when he realized what was going on. His astral form, glowing and sparking with energy, was quite nude and quite idealized. He reached out and grabbed Charlotte and pulled the spirit down in front of his waist.

  "Sorry," he said.

  "Please," said Madeleine, "don't be modest on our account."

  "Yes," said Melissa, "we had no idea." She smiled. "I mean there are all sorts of stories about orks and trolls, and even dwarfs, but I'd never heard of magicians being so, um, gifted."

  "Unfortunately, it's not quite like that." Kyle was about to explain, then realized he didn't really want to. Let them think what they pleased. "There's no change in your brother's condition, but I wanted to check on you and the rest of the family."

  "We're fine," said Melissa. "My mother and father are packing some clothes so they can stay at the hospital with Mitchell until you and the doctors can figure out what's wrong with him."

  "Have you had any luck?" Madeleine asked.

  "No, not really. Some theories, but nothing more than that."

  Melissa broke in suddenly. "Oh! There was a message waiting here when we got back. The staff said some woman had called looking for Mitch. She sounded upset."

  "Did she leave her name?"

  Melissa shook her head. "No. She hung up when the maid said he was in the hospital."

  "Damn," said Kyle. Now whoever it was, probably Linda Hayward, knew Mitchell was in the hands of his family. "Does Facile know about the phone call?"

  "Yes, Hanna told him right away."

  "Good. Tell Hanna to instruct the staff not to give out any more information."

  "She's already done that."

  "Good. I'm going back to the hospital. I'll let you know if anything changes."

  "Thanks," said Melissa.

  "Hope to see you again," added Madeleine.

  Kyle smiled. "I suspect you will." He returned to astral space. "Charlotte, resume your duties. But make sure Lieutenant Facile of Knight Errant knows that another spirit was here."

  "Yes, Master," the spirit replied.

  And Kyle flew off back to the hospital.

  * * * *

  He sat up and blinked, stretching out the slight lethargy that had begun to seep into his limbs. He'd been separated from his body for less than half an hour, a fraction of the time he was able to spend disassociated, but the body always showed some effects regardless.

  "Everything is well?" Seeks-the-Moon asked.

  Kyle nodded. "Some kind of spirit..." His words trailed off as he saw Delta, the watcher spirit, still hovering at the far side of the room. He sighed. "Delta," he said.

  “Yes!" It bounced to life and began circling him.

  "Go back to Charlotte and do what she tells you," he told it

  "Yes!" it cried jubilantly and then vanished.

  Seeks-the-Moon shrugged. "I tried to tell it the same thing, but it wouldn't listen."

  "Doesn't matter now. What's important is that some kind of spirit visited the apartment. Charlotte couldn't recognize it, but she noticed something very strange. The spirit was dark."

  "Dark?" both Seeks-the-Moon and Doctor Douglas said in unison.

  "Dark. I don't really know what that means either."

  Seeks-the-Moon turned toward Mitchell. "He's dark ..."

  Kyle nodded. "I thought of that. What if Mitch's astral self has somehow gotten separated from his body? What if it was off, lost somewhere, while his body slowly died?"

  "That's a possibility," the doctor said.

  "Except," said Seeks-the-Moon, "that his aura isn't weak­ening. It's dim, nearly dead, but stable."

  Kyle sighed. "I know." He stood and looked at Mitchell Truman's still form. "We've got to find out what's going on in case he gets worse."

  "Worse?" asked Doctor Douglas. "Pardon my pessimism, but this boy isn't going to get better. His mind is simply gone."

  "I know, but there's always a chance." Kyle turned to Seeks-the-Moon. "Go back to the Truman residence and stay there in case another one of those spirits shows up. If it does, see what you can learn."

  The spirit nodded. "I will."

  "Also, while you're there, find an empty room and set up a full ritual circle."

  "How big?"

  Kyle paused and thought. "Nine meters across."

  "And the spell?"

  Kyle flashed the spirit a mental
image of me spell. "This one. The same as before."

  Kyle turned toward the doctor. "In the meantime, and with your permission, I'd like to leave two elementals here to guard Mitch."

  "That's fine, as long as they stay in this room and don't disturb the other patients."

  Kyle laughed. "No, these two are pretty calm." He turned and shifted his perceptions until they synchronized with the harmonics of the elemental metaplane of water.

  "Elliot, Richard," he said, and two water elementals came into existence before him. "Guard the boy in the bed and this room. Allow no one and no magics into this room without the permission of Doctor Douglas."

  The two spirits looked at the doctor, and then back at Kyle.

  "Got it," said the first.

  "If I have to," said the second.

  Kyle turned to Seeks-the-Moon. "Go ahead."

  Seeks-me-Moon bowed and disappeared. The two spirits also faded away, back into astral space.

  Kyle turned toward Dr. Douglas. "Do you have a sy­ringe?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "Behind on your medication?"

  Kyle smiled, but shook his head. "No, but I'd like to get a ritual sample from him." He gestured to the body. "Just in case."

  The doctor pulled a small case from the test cart still parked in the corner of the room and handed it to him. "Here. A blood sample kit"

  Kyle unlatched the case and removed the pistol-gripped sampler, pulling clear the self-sterilizing protective cap.

  "How much will you take?"

  “I don't need much," he said, bending closer and laying his hand on the boy's arm. Again he focused his magical power to infuse the blood sample he was about to take with enough secondary energy to allow it to remain fresh for some time. He placed the tip of the sampler against the arm and moved it until the sensors indicated he was above a suit­able vein. Kyle pulled the trigger and simultaneously released the energy of his ad hoc spell. The small ampoule at the rear of the grip quickly filled, and Kyle could sense that it had taken the power he'd fed it. He set the gun down, re­moved the ampoule, and placed it inside the protective con­tainer the sampler pouch provided.

  "You have my personal telecom numbers," he told the doctor. "If anything changes, call me immediately." Then he left, heading for the hospital lobby.

  The building was quiet, the morning rounds just beginning. Just as Kyle was coming out of the elevator on the ground floor, he heard some commotion down one of the corridors. Following the noise, he was led straight to the administrative in­formation center, the computer heart of the facility.

  The disturbance was coming from inside the main computer room, where the staff monitored the hospital's various systems. Before Kyle could enter, one of the facility's pri­vate guards, flanked by a Knight Errant officer, stopped him. Knight Errant had been assisting with hospital security ever since Mitchell Truman had been transferred here. "What's going on?" Kyle asked them. The hospital guard merely looked at him, but the Knight Errant officer recognized Kyle. His name patch said Leventhal.

  "It looks to me like a decker, sir," the man said, while the hospital guard shot him a cold look.

  Kyle tried to get a better view into the room, but couldn't see much.

  "The computer system's internal security programs noted a load anomaly a few minutes ago," the Knight Errant guard explained. "They've been trying to figure out what's going on, but it looks like someone's decked into the computer from outside and is searching the database."

  "Admittance records?" asked Kyle.

  "Seems that way, sir."

  Kyle sighed. If this was related to Mitchell Truman's pres­ence, it was more than probable that whoever was cracking the computer had found his admittance records and knew he was here. "We probably shouldn't move him again," Kyle told the officer. "But let's at least change his room once the decker is either out, dumped, or they finally get smart enough to crash the system. This way whoever it is won't know Mitchell's exact whereabouts in the building. It might give us a few minutes."

  The officer nodded. "I'll pass your recommendations on to Lieutenant Facile."

  Kyle smiled. "You do that." He turned and walked slowly from the lobby, lost in thought. He was in luck, almost immediately able to find a taxi back to the hotel.

  Back in his suite, and finally able to get some sleep, Kyle was soon dreaming of thunderstorms.

  11

  There were two messages awaiting Kyle when he woke nearly eight hours later. He didn't remember leaving a Do Not Disturb notice on anything but the door, but considering how much better he felt, he felt no need to complain. The first message was from Beth. She wanted him to call. He did, using his pocket telecom. The Fuchi logo appeared, floating and barely opaque, visible in his field of vision thanks to his display-link cyberware.

  Kyle felt strangely uneasy calling her at work. It still felt wrong for her to be doing this job, but he'd lost the option of doing anything about it years ago. He felt a twinge as he connected into Fuchi America's internal communications network and then was routed to Beth. She picked up immediately. Her hair was styled differently then when they'd had dinner a day ago. He barely recognized her.

  "John Mikayama's office, Elizabeth Breman speaking," she said crisply.

  “Hoi,” be said.

  She paused when she saw his face. "Hoi. Are you all right."

  "Sure,” he said, surprised at the question. "Why wouldn't it be?"

  She pursed her lips. "I got a little worried when you didn't call."

  "Sorry. I know this won't surprise you, but things got more complicated then I'd expected."

  Beth nodded, glanced at something Kyle couldn't see, and then spoke again. "You're right. It doesn't surprise me. But did you get a chance to speak to Ellen?"

  "No," Kyle said slowly. "But I will."

  Beth looked away again. "I haven't been able to reach her. I tried all day yesterday."

  "How long has it been since you've talked to her?"

  “Two days."

  "You've checked with her friends?"

  She shook her head. "I don't know any of them—if she has any."

  I'll stop by and see her today. Is she still at her old ad­dress?"

  Beth nodded.

  "Don't worry. I'll call you as soon as I find out anything."

  "Thanks," she said.

  Kyle reached for the Disconnect, but paused for one last thought "By the way, I like your hair."

  She smiled self-consciously and reached up to smooth a nonexistent disarray. "No you don't. You're still a terrible liar." The screen jumped to black.

  Checking the time, which was just after midday, Kyle thought the odds of Ellen being home were minute. Then he suddenly remembered that she didn't work—wasn't able to yet, according to the psych evaluations—and was living on settlement money the government had distributed from the seized Universal Brotherhood coffers. It was a good bet she'd be there.

  The second message was, somewhat surprisingly, from Dave Strevich at the FBI. Considering their last conversa­tion, Kyle was almost reluctant to return the call. But he did.

  "Dave Strevich," the burly man said as he made the con­nection. “Teller! Sure took your fraggin' time getting back to me."

  Kyle shrugged. "Man's gotta sleep."

  "Really? Well, that explains it" Strevich held up his hand, indicating that Kyle shouldn't speak, and then tapped a few commands into his telecom keyboard. After a moment, Kyle heard a series of three low beeps come from Strevich's console. The older man nodded. "Good. We're clear."

  "No bugs, eh?" said Kyle, and was surprised by the way his friend's eyes hardened just for a moment before he laughed forcibly.

  "No, nobody's listening in."

  "What's going on?" Kyle asked him.

  "Look, I'm not telling you this," said Strevich tersely. "Nobody did, got it?"

  "Got it"

  "Red alarms started going off all over Ares Macro-technology and Knight Errant some hours ago. We figured they were gearing u
p over some intercorporate drek, but it turns out their interest seems to be in Chicago."

  Kyle was startled. "Chicago? Ares doesn't have any major offices or facilities here, at least none that I know of."

  Strevich nodded. "You're right. Their interest is in you."

  "Me?"

  Strevich nodded. "Maybe not in you personally, but at least in what you're involved in."

  "I don't understand."

  Strevich shrugged. "I don't either, but Knight Errant has moved, or is in the process of moving, various key personnel and assets into Chicago."

  "Assets?"

  "We have it on good authority that Knight Errant has sent what they call one of their 'Firewatch' teams into the city. They have three of them. Six to a team, a hard mix of combat cybernetics and magic. Combat strike teams."

  "Great Coyote," Kyle said.

  “Whatever," said Strevich. "There's more. This is Team Two, and it's been operating either in Barcelona for the Eu­ropean trade summit or in Azania down around Cape Town, depending on which source we believe." Strevich paused. "More important is who commands it."

  Kyle waited. "Who's that?"

  "Anne Ravenheart," Strevich said, "Captain Anne Ravenheart, formerly of the Sioux Special Forces and a former classmate of yours at Columbia, if I'm not mistaken."

  “That's impossible," Kyle said, trying to remember what he could about his old acquaintance, and on one drunken night, lover. "She was there on a Sioux government scholar­ship."

  "Military scholarship."

  "It can't be," Kyle insisted irrationally. What he remem­bered of her wasn't military, nothing hard or unyielding. Just the opposite. It was true she had an edge to her, but he had taken the source of that to be the same as his own—being born into poverty.

  "Think again," Strevich said. "She's a known quantity in military circles, no question about it."

  “This doesn't make sense. I've seen nothing here on a scale large enough to mobilize Knight Errant like they're gearing up for corporate war. Sure, there are some weird things, but ..."