Now Martin had a zest for life Serika hadn’t seen since she was alive. In response, she began furiously punching the walls of her quarters. She no longer cared who heard her. She didn’t stop until her knuckles were soaked with blood and a dull pain.
No one came to check on her. Her neighbors/co-workers must have been out. Like I give a shit.
She collapsed onto her bedding and gave in to what she called Rage Tears. This went on for about fifteen minutes. Afterwards, she managed to calm down enough to gather her thoughts.
Okay, Martin’s not going to kill himself. That means I still have to do it myself. But everything else has failed and I could be found out at any time. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I absolutely have to finish him. She sat up and got the gears going. But how? He’s so damn resilient, it would take something spectacular. Only an act of God can do him in.
Suddenly, everything clicked. The metaphorical lightbulb appeared above her head. That’s it! An act of God! The weather. I’ll kill him with the weather. She laughed maniacally. Get ready, Martin. One way or another, this ends tomorrow.
* * *
Mary and Stephens headed over to the OKC HouseTech office. It was located within a two-story glass building containing more windows than Mary even thought possible. It must have been brutal when the sun beat down upon it.
They met with Stan Glarsky, a bearded, bespectacled man with a big head (literally) and a pot belly. Mary and Stephens took their seats in front of Glarsky’s desk in his office. “Thank you for seeing us,” Mary said.
“No problem,” Glarsky said in a monotone voice. “We make it a point to cooperate with police investigations whenever we can.”
“We have somewhat of an… unusual request,” Stephens said.
Glarsky cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
Mary got the ball rolling. “Mercy Hospital is one of your customers, correct?”
“Yes?” He clearly didn’t see where they were going with this.
“To put it bluntly, we need last night’s records from Room 52,” Stpehens said. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Mary didn’t blame him; this wasn’t going to be easy.
“We would need the permission of both Mercy and whoever was in that room to do that,” Glarsky said.
“Mercy won’t be a problem,” Stephens said. “Along with most of the people in that room. But one person might prove to be… hesitant.”
“Why is that?”
“Actually, I don’t think she’ll be a problem at all. Go ahead and get her permission,” Mary said.
Glarsky scratched his bushy beard and said, “All right, give me an hour. Do you mind waiting around?”
Mary smiled. “Not at all.”
The two returned to HouseTech’s reception area. “We’re dealing with an unstable psychopath. What makes you think she won’t be a problem?” Stephens said.
Mary explained, “You have to remember—there are two sides to her personality, the good and the bad. I’m confident we’ll get her good side today.”
Stephens removed the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He then eyed the “No Smoking” sign on the wall and evidently thought better of it. He sighed and put the pack back.
“I have to use the restroom,” Mary said. “I’ll be right back.”
Stephens muttered something in the affirmative and sat down at one of the cheap plastic chairs with thin padding which filled the room.
Mary headed into the ladies’ room and concentrated her telepathy. She quickly reached Hana, a low-level Shinigami who worked part-time on the weekends.
Hana here.
This is Mary.
Hello, Mary. What do you need?
I need you to distract Serika for about an hour.
Distract her how?
I don’t know. Make up some excuse. Strike up a conversation. You live in the same dorm. Shouldn’t be too hard.
Um… okay. I’ll get right on that.
Thanks. Mary out.
Hana didn’t seem too pleased with the idea, but she was the type to follow orders. With Serika distracted, Betty Sodatrino would have a clear head to cooperate with HouseTech’s request. At least, that was what Mary hoped. There was still the possibility, however miniscule, that Serika was innocent. But Mary’s gut told her she was on the right track.
* * *
Serika sat on her bed and began the meditation which was necessary to achieve body possession. She planned on going back into Betty to further perpetuate the latter’s guilt.
However, there was a knock at the door. She suppressed her spiking annoyance and went to answer it. On the other side stood… someone. One of her co-workers. Serika couldn’t quite remember her name. “Hi, Serika.”
Dammit, what do you want? “Hi… uh… Haruka?”
“It’s Hana, actually.” Short and chubby with full cheeks, Hana was one of the many people Serika never really interacted with except when absolutely necessary. On this occasion, she had her hair in a bob.
“Can I help you?” Serika tried to keep oozing irritation out of her voice.
“Um… well… I was thinking, we’ve never really had the chance to get to know one another. I thought now would be a good opportunity.”
You can’t be serious. “Aren’t you on duty right now?”
Hana looked around nervously. “Yes… well… don’t tell anyone, but I’m being a little naughty and playing hooky.” She smiled.
Well, at least she’s being a little rebellious. I can respect that somewhat, even if she picked a shitty time for it. “I won’t tell anyone. But I’m actually kinda busy right now. Maybe later.”
She tried to close the door, but Hana stuck her arm out to block it. “Come on. Just a few minutes, I promise. Please?”
Inwardly, Serika groaned. If she was too antisocial, people might get suspicious. “Fine. Just a few minutes. Come on in.”
Hana hurried in and looked around, her arms moving about, as if she didn’t know where to position herself. She ended up standing next to the bed. “Okay… so. Uh… first question. What was your childhood like?”
Serika stood in front of the door and shrugged. “Pretty good. I had loving parents. I grew up in Edmond.”
“Edmond? Where’s that?”
“Oklahoma.”
“Oh!” Hana said. “I didn’t know you were from America. Just like Mary-sama.”
“Yes. Just like Mary-sama. Anyway, I went to Edmond North High School. Nice school, I guess.
“Where did you go to college?”
Serika replied, “University of Central Oklahoma, also in Edmond. That was where I met my future husband.”
“You mean Martin.”
“Yeah.”
“What was he like?”
Serika grinned as she thought back to those days. “If I’m being honest, he was a complete doofus. He thought he was so smooth. But there was something about him. He was always positive, always putting his best foot forward. And he wasn’t afraid to make a move on me. All that’s what really attracted me to him.
“It must have been hard to lose him.”
I haven’t lost anything. “Yeah. It was tough. But we both need to get on with our lives. Or in my case, my afterlife. I’ve found new purpose in my work.”
“Do you ever check on him?”
“Sometimes. But I generally leave him be.”
“That’s good. Have you met anyone new here in Yomi?”
There will never, ever be anyone but Martin. “Not really. I don’t feel the need for romance anymore. I found fulfillment in life, so I don’t need it here.”
“But what about…?” Hana hesitated to finish that thought.
“That thing I keep in my office?”
Hana nodded. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up.”
“It’s fine. That’s very important to me, and hopefully, someday I’ll get to complete it. But there’s no hurry.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Hana said. She then cocked her head as if listening to some
thing. What’s that about? “I need to get back to work now. It was nice talking to you. Let’s do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, sure. Same here.”
Hana departed, leaving Serika to wonder what exactly that was all about.
* * *
Glarsky managed to get the authorizations he needed faxed to his office. He then brought Mary and Stephens back into the room to look. Mary took a quick moment to contact Hana and tell her she could stop distracting Serika now.
“This is odd,” he said, furrowing his brow.
“Odd how?” Stephens said.
He turned his computer monitor around to face them. It presented an orange figure sitting in a bed—Betty Sodatrino. The thermal graph. At the bottom of the screen was a date stamp which also displayed the time. Glarsky clicked his mouse on the Play button and the seconds began moving up. “You can see here that everything is normal. But right about here…” He stopped the footage.
“Would you look at that,” Stephens said. Betty was now enveloped in white.
“Right when her personality changed,” Mary said.
“What does it mean?” Glarsky said.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you that. And you wouldn’t believe us, anyway,” Mary replied. “But could we get a print-out of this?”
“Thanks for this,” Stephens said.
The duo left a bewildered Glarsky and returned to the reception area. “So, what are we looking at here?” Stephens said.
“Our magician. He or she possessed Betty Sodatrino and tried to kill Martin McDonnell with her body.”
“I can’t go back to my superiors with that. It’s crazy and it can’t be argued in court. I need something real.”
“Trust me, this is as real as it gets,” Mary said.
He began pacing nervously around the room. “What do I tell the higher-ups? What do I tell Martin? What do I tell his family?”
“What you’ve already told them,” Mary said. “That Betty is a sick person who needs help. Right now, that’s the best we can do.”
He groaned. “This is all kinds of messed up.”
“I agree. But look, I have to head back now.”
“Back where?”
“Home.”
He said, “But what about your investigation?”
“I’ve learned all I can. Now I have to go back and deal with the magician.”
“Okayyyy.” He extended his hand. “Take care, I guess.”
She took it. “And you as well.”
“You’re not really from the FBI, are you?”
She grinned. “What gave me away?
* * *
Mary returned to Yomi and paid a visit to the Bureau’s forensics lab. A sterile, white environment, it was filled with everything one expected to find in a lab: people in white lab coats, beakers, syringes, and machines whose purposes she could only guess at. Rows of tables containing equipment were arranged neatly throughout the room.
A wall divided the entrance from the lab itself. There was a window for communication and a door to the left which led into the lab.
A female technician met her at the window. The technician wore a surgical mask and hair net. “How can I help you?”
“I have an image I want you to analyze to determine a specific god’s aura,” Mary said.
“Certainly. Please put it in the bin.”
A metal bin opened outwards below the window. Mary put the print-out in it and it retracted to the technician’s side. “I’m also going to need a copy of that.”
Sunday
20
Martin dug his old bass guitar out of the closet in the morning. He hadn’t touched the thing in years. With that in mind, he grabbed a cloth and wiped off the copious amount of dust coating the surface.
OJ had called Steve and Trevor, and both embraced the idea of getting the band back together. Fortunately, everyone still had their instruments; it seemed they all had held out some hope, conscious or otherwise, of returning to music. They had just needed a spark. I suppose a series of near-death experiences is a good a spark as any.
He took the guitar into the living room of his apartment and tuned the E string. He plucked a few notes, trying to get the thing back in shape. The familiarity made it easy for him, and soon he had a pretty good-sounding bass on his hands.
* * *
Mary arrived at the Golden Chamber. As usual, Lord First sat behind the silk curtain. She did the same. “Report,” he said.
“I’m just about finished with my investigation.”
“And what have you uncovered?”
“The mastermind behind the attempts on Martin McDonnell’s life is definitely a deity. No one else could have done what they did without being caught on camera. Also, I have undeniable proof Betty Sodatrino was possessed when she attempted to kill him.”
“What proof is that?” he asked.
She removed the print-out from Glarsky’s office and slid it under the curtain. “This is an infra-red image of Miss Sodatrino. It clearly shows a godly aura surrounding her.
His silhouette picked it up. “It is indeed proof,” he said. “But of what. Not whom. Who is the culprit?”
She explained, “An aura is like a fingerprint. Each one is unique. I have the lab running an analysis to match known auras. We should receive an answer sometime today.”
“Very good. But I am concerned with the time. The culprit could be getting desperate. Who knows what they may try next. We have to identify them before they strike again.”
“I share your concern, my lord. The lab is working as fast as they can, but we’re having technical difficulties with Aogami.”
He said, “You must resolve these difficulties as quickly as possible. The culprit might choose to go all-out without caring whether they are exposed. And without knowing whom we are up against, it could be very difficult to stop them.”
“Don’t worry, my lord,” she said. “This ends today.”
* * *
Stupid Mary, Serika thought happily as she entered the Bureau’s main elevator. She really shouldn’t leave her office so much. Otherwise, I might not have been able to get this. She held a non-descript bronze key she had pilfered from said office.
Just below the numbers for different floors was a hole. She inserted the key and the letters SL appeared above it. She pushed the letters and the elevator descended.
Soon the door reopened and she stepped out into sheer darkness. The chill of the space greeted her. “Lights,” she said. The room was promptly illuminated and she observed its grandeur. It was a cavernous area, seemingly carved out of a smooth metal shell, with wires and cables running along the floor.
She walked across the large space towards the back where a series of massive computer servers sat beneath a movie theater-sized screen. In front of the servers was a bank of interconnected computer terminals. She pressed a button and the whole thing booted up, prompting certain characters to greet her.
絶対の魂魄
Everything in the universe had a soul. The Zettai no Konpanku, or Absolute Soul, system, was designed to take control of those souls. However, non-Japanese gods objected to this, and a certain treaty had been signed, causing the system to be abandoned before it was completed. As a result, it could not control every soul in existence.
But it could control the weather. Because every cloud, every raindrop, every gust of wind had a soul. The system could take control of them and manipulate them however the user wished.
The system was also linked to Aogami. “What is the current location of Martin McDonnell?”
Words appeared on the screen. [He is currently traveling north up I-95 towards Guthrie.]
“I want you to create a fierce storm in that area. The worst you can come up with. Have it follow Martin wherever he goes. I’m talking lightning, tornadoes, anything deadly.”
[I must inform you use of this system this is banned by treaty.]
“I don’t care. Just do it.” With the compliance subr
outine still in place, Aogami had no choice.
[Very well. Creating storm now.]
The big screen above switched to an overhead view of I-95 in central Oklahoma. The weather was clear. Serika smiled. For now.
* * *
Mary entered the room housing Aogami. She needed to find Serika and keep her busy until the lab analysis came back.
The familiar characters greeted her. [Hello, Mary-dono. How may I assist you today?]
“I can’t find Serika. Where is she?”
[I cannot tell you.]
“What? Why not?”
[I cannot tell you.]
If one’s blood could actually boil, Mary imagined hers would have done exactly that at that moment. “Dammit, Aogami! Lives are at stake here! Tell me where Serika is.”
[I cannot.]
There was a panel on the far wall for communication purposes. She stormed over to it and contacted the IT department. One of the technicians appeared on-screen. “Yes?”
She said, “Aogami’s acting up. Please send someone over here ASAP!” Fury dripped from her voice.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She let out an exasperated sigh.
Mary went back to her office and sat down behind her desk. I could use a drink right now. She opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of sake. Scotch had been her favorite in life, but they didn’t make that in Yomi, so she had to settle for this. “Hmmm?”
The key to the sublevel was missing. But who would want to take that?
Her intercom buzzed. “Ma’am, we just got the results back from the lab. We know whose aura that is.”
Everything clicked. “Inform Lord First. Have a squad of Shinigami meet me at the elevator.”
“But don’t you want to know who it is?”
“I’m pretty sure I know who it is. And even if I’m wrong, the culprit is in the sublevel.”
Aragami: A Tale of the Previous Universe (Divine Protector Book 5) Page 11
