Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis

by P. T. Dilloway

  “I suppose so. It’s really exciting. The first RAT prototypes are going into production and there’s something big I’m going to pitch to Mr. Ward next week—”

  “Maybe with all the things you’re doing, you don’t need a girlfriend to add to it.”

  He looked over at her; his mouth hung open with shock for a moment. “Sylvia, I’m sorry. I was working in the lab and there isn’t a clock—”

  “I tried calling you.”

  “There’s not a phone either. It’s a clean environment.”

  “Isn’t that convenient for you?”

  “Sylvia, what are you saying?”

  She slammed on the brakes, which prompted cars behind them to lean on their horns. Sylvia paid no attention to them as she turned to glare at Tim. “Maybe you found some lab bunny to get dirty with in the clean room.”

  “What? That’s crazy! You know how much I care about you. I just lost track of time, that’s all!” He held her gaze as he said this, which he’d never found easy to do. Whenever he looked into her green eyes, he caught a glimmer of something he couldn’t identify, a knowing look to suggest she knew everything about him already.

  “OK, I believe you,” she finally said. The truck lurched forward as she stomped on the accelerator. “I wish I mattered as much to you as this science stuff.”

  “You do matter as much to me. You matter more.”

  “You sure as hell don’t act like it.”

  “It’s just that we’re at a critical time right now. What we’re doing could redefine space exploration for the next half-century.”

  “Which is a lot more important than a lunch date with your girlfriend.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it.”

  “I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

  She turned to him, but this time she leered at him. “I can think of a few ways.”

  ***

  They ate lunch at a nearby greasy spoon; they bolted hamburgers and fries so they could both get back to work. By all appearances everything was right again between her and Tim. He promised to be more attentive to her needs and meet her for lunch on Tuesday.

  “What about Monday?” she asked.

  “I have a meeting with Mr. Ward. He wants to discuss an idea of mine.”

  “What is it?”

  Tim shifted uncomfortably in his half of the booth. “I really can’t say.”

  “You afraid I’ll blab about it to someone?” She tried to pat him on the hand and smiled gently at him as she said, “I don’t understand your ideas that well to blab about them.”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t want to get your hopes up—or mine. If Mr. Ward doesn’t like it, then it’ll wind up in the drawer with my other ideas.”

  “Don’t talk that way, Tim. You’re the most brilliant person I know when it comes to this stuff.”

  “Really? What about Dr. Earl?”

  “She’s a geologist. She plays with rocks, not mechanical thingies.” Again she patted his arm to reassure him. Whenever he spoke of Emma, Sylvia detected not jealousy so much as a sense of inferiority. Part of this stemmed from that she had a PhD and he didn’t, though he claimed he didn’t need one for his work. He also didn’t know fifteen languages and couldn’t recite the Periodic Table in alphabetical order or by atomic weights.

  “You’re doing a great job at this TriTech place. I’m sure Mr. Ward is going to approve whatever you give him. Maybe he’ll even let you take a day off or two.”

  “Maybe.”

  That had effectively ended their conversation for the day. She had driven him back to TriTech’s headquarters, in the renovated Fleischman Building. She leaned out the truck’s window to kiss him briefly on the lips before he hurried into the building, no doubt to resume his work.

  Sylvia asked Val to cover her last hair appointment so she could go out back to the gun range. From her office, she retrieved a prototype Colt revolver she had won from its inventor. The gun didn’t pack the same wallop as others in her inventory, but it had sentimental value to her as a symbol of her new life.

  She considered maybe it was time for her to put those days behind her and settle down. Maybe it was time to focus on the salon—and Tim. When the time was right, maybe they could get married and she could finally be a mother in the way she hadn’t been able to last time because of her cowardice.

  She holstered her weapon. Now wouldn’t be the right time to discuss this with Tim, not with his work schedule. She would have to wait until things calmed down. Maybe by then she would know what she wanted.

  Chapter 3

  Thanks to the newly-formed Anti-Vigilante Task Force, meetings between the Scarlet Knight and Captain Donovan had become even more covert than before. Instead of the band shelter at Robinson Park, they rotated meeting places designated by a number in their Email messages.

  In this case, Emma had indicated Location 7: the rooftop of the old Jernigan’s department store. This was the closest location to the campus of Rampart State, where Emma had finished a class a half-hour ago. That had left her with enough time to drive over to the department store, call for the armor on the abandoned third floor, dress, and climb to the roof.

  She had to wait for only a minute before Captain Donovan showed up. The police captain must have come from a meeting as she wore a gray pantsuit instead of her usual jeans and black leather jacket. While the captain had tried to quit smoking, at the moment she held an unlit cigarette in her teeth.

  “I thought you quit,” Emma said.

  “I’m not lighting it. Just holding it. I hope you have a good reason for bringing me up here. I’ve got the don’s boys in IA watching me like a hawk. If they saw us up here they’d have my ass.”

  “I need your help. I’m looking for someone.”

  “I’ve heard that before. What kind of psychotic freak is it this time?”

  “It’s a girl. Her name’s Megan Putnam. She’s a student at Rampart State. She’s been missing for about a week.” Emma held up a picture of Megan copied from the registrar’s files. In the picture, Megan didn’t smile; she looked instead as if she were about to have an asthma attack.

  “Maybe you should ask someone in Missing Persons.”

  “No one’s reported her missing yet.”

  “Then why are you looking into it?”

  “I think she might be in danger.”

  “You think she might be in danger?” Donovan threw the cigarette to the ground and stamped on it though it wasn’t lit. “You brought me here to look for someone who might not even be missing?”

  “Her father is out of town. There’s no one to report her missing.”

  “Don’t you think we have enough actual crimes in this city that we don’t have to worry about ones that might not have taken place?”

  “I’m sorry,” Emma said. She turned her back to the police captain. “I guess we should wait until her body turns up floating in the river.”

  Emma dropped the picture of Megan on the ground and then stomped towards the edge of the roof. Before she could jump, she heard Donovan say, “Hold on a minute.” Emma turned around and saw the captain study the picture. “Since you’ve already brought me up here I might as well look into it.”

  “Thank you,” Emma said.

  “Yeah, whatever. Remember you owe me for this.”

  “I will.”

  “Maybe you could get me some evidence on Don Vendetta—”

  “I’ve tried. She doesn’t make it easy, even for me.”

  “Yeah, well, it probably didn’t help that your stand-in shot up her club. By now she’s probably got her skeletons buried where we’ll never find them.”

  Emma resisted the urge to defend Becky; Becky had done what she’d felt was right. Instead, Emma said, “I’ll keep trying. There has to be some way to get her.”

  “Let’s hope so. That might take a little wind out of that task force’s sails.” Donovan reached into her jacket for another cigare
tte, which she again didn’t light. “If I find anything about this girl I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Emma said. Then she ran across the rooftop and bounced out of sight.

  ***

  In seven years, Emma had never worn the Scarlet Knight’s armor on the campus of Rampart State. There were certainly crimes she could have foiled, but most of them were small potatoes like underage drinking and drug use that she could leave to campus security. Once she became a teacher at the school, she didn’t use the armor on campus so as not to risk anyone might recognize her by accident or see her put the armor on or take it off.

  Tonight she made an exception to this rule. Since Megan’s roommate had lied, Emma saw little choice but to use the red armor to get into the dorm room and snoop around for any evidence of a crime. At the very least, she might get an indication of why Megan had left without telling the school.

  Emma summoned the armor in the ladies room for the department. There was no one around at the moment—everyone else had gone home or to a class—but she locked the door anyway to make sure. The last thing she wanted was a janitor to stumble on her and start to spread the word about the Scarlet Knight’s identity.

  Once dressed in the armor, she wrapped the yellow cape around her body to make herself invisible to most human eyes. As she’d painfully learned at the Plastic Hippo, she would still be visible to the security cameras around campus. She had already studied the university’s security, so she knew to take the back stairs. These led to the parking lot, where her motorcycle was still parked.

  She continued past this, into the main courtyard. Since it was night there were no sunbathers or Frisbee players at the moment. There were a few couples around the fountain; they sat on the benches with their backs turned to the water as they made out. She felt her cheeks turn warm beneath the helmet visor as she passed by the fountain.

  Marlin of course chose this opportunity to appear in front of her. Even if the couples weren’t focused so intently on each other they wouldn’t have seen the spirit of Merlin’s assistant. “You seem a little overdressed for class,” Marlin said.

  Emma waited until she had left the fountain behind to hiss, “I’m working here.”

  “Really? Has Don Vendetta set up shop on campus now?”

  “No, this is something else. One of my students has gone missing. I’m going to check her room for any evidence.”

  She thought the ghost might give her more grief, but he only said, “Well, I suppose it’s better than getting your arse handed to you by the don’s thugs again.”

  “They didn’t hand me anything,” Emma said out of professional pride.

  “Oh yes, you really showed them.” Marlin sighed. “I suppose it was to be expected after what your trigger-happy friend did.”

  “Leave Becky alone.”

  “Fine. Do you want any assistance or do you think you can handle this on your own?”

  “You have a hot date?”

  “I thought I might find some more interesting crimes for you.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll see you later.”

  Once the ghost had floated away, Emma continued across the courtyard to the dorms, her progress slower than earlier because of the cape. Near Maple House, she surveyed the entrance. There wasn’t a camera at the entrance, but at the moment there was a small group of smokers clustered around the door. It would be far too difficult for her to slip past them and get inside.

  She walked around the edge of the building and searched for another way in. She was grateful for the warm weather that had prompted some of the students to keep their windows open. From Emma’s calculations, this included Megan’s roommate.

  She was further benefited by the location of Megan’s dorm room on the back side of the building. After she made sure no one was around, she dropped the cape and then began to climb up the side of the building. The fingertips of the magic yellow gloves held easily to the brick as she climbed up to the third floor.

  For a moment she hung suspended beside the window and peeked inside. She tapped the side of the visor once; the helmet’s night vision came on so she could see into the dark room as if it were daytime. There was no sign of Megan or her roommate inside.

  Emma dropped into the room, between the two twin-sized beds. It was easy to see which side was Megan’s from the neatly made bed and lack of any posters or knickknacks. There was no way to tell for certain how long ago the bed had been abandoned; it could have been last week or this morning. She lifted the covers carefully so as not to disturb the bed too much; she searched for blood or traces of any other fluids. There was nothing she could see with the helmet, which didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there; she would need specialized equipment for a more thorough search.

  Beneath the pillow she came upon her first clue—Megan’s diary. It was the kind of diary a little girl might keep, pastel pink with stickers of horses on it. The cheap lock would have been easy to break even without the armor’s magic gloves.

  She had hoped to find a description of where Megan intended to go or perhaps a receipt of a plane ticket. Instead, she found pictures of buildings. Emma was more than familiar enough with the Rampart City skyline to know these structures didn’t exist. These were skyscrapers that existed only in Megan Putnam’s mind. As she flipped through page after page in the diary, Emma saw everything from traditional rectangular buildings to bizarre angular ones that would make Frank Gehry jealous.

  Before she could reach the end of the diary, she heard the doorknob turn. Emma had just enough time to stash the diary under the pillows again and then wrap the cape around her body. Then the door opened and Megan’s roommate sagged inside, in the grasp of a young man.

  Their lips were locked as they stumbled into the room. Amanda nearly backed into Emma. When the young man came up for air, he asked, “Your roommate gone?”

  “Weezy’s long gone,” Amanda said. This sounded ominous to Emma. She backed against the wall to listen for anything else, but Amanda didn’t have Megan on her mind. “I’ve got a great idea. Let’s fuck on the princess’s bed.”

  “Anything you say, babe,” the young man said. Emma dove out the window just as the lovers dropped onto Megan’s bed. The armor protected her as she landed on her side on the grass. She hurried away so she wouldn’t have to hear the first cries of ecstasy.

  ***

  After she crawled into the bushes, she took off the armor and deposited it back into its case. She could have worn the armor with the cape to make her way across campus again, but she figured it would be easier as Dr. Emma Earl.

  She left the red case in the bushes, where it would disappear before long, to return to the Sanctuary beneath the Plaine Museum before she called for it again. In the meantime, she started out around the building; the smokers at the front door paid her no mind. Perhaps later she could find time to return to Maple House to search the room for more clues.

  For the moment she only had more questions. Megan dreamed of buildings and yet she wasn’t enrolled in any drafting courses. She hadn’t decided on a major yet. Family pressure? Given that Megan’s father was often out of town and her mother was dead, Emma doubted it.

  Of more concern was the roommate’s comment that Megan was “long gone.” Whose idea had it been for her to leave? And had she left in one piece or pieces? Amanda Murdoch didn’t seem like the murderer type and Emma couldn’t see any motive for the crime. Amanda wouldn’t get any money from Megan’s death—except for whatever Megan had on her. Perhaps the roommate had stashed Megan away to ransom her, though the maid hadn’t said anything about that on the phone. It was possible the maid had covered for her employer, but that didn’t feel right to Emma.

  From experience, Emma knew what it was like to be a shy, lonely girl on campus. She had often considered running away to return to Rampart City to Becky and Aunt Gladys and more familiar surroundings. Instead, she had thrown herself into her schoolwork; she had focused on her dream of working at the Plain
e Museum, one she had attained—at least for a few years.

  Given Megan’s average grades, Emma supposed the girl had simply cracked and disappeared. She might be on the streets or hidden in a dilapidated building like Rampart City’s transient population. If that were the case, Emma might never find her.

  Engrossed in her thoughts, she almost sat on Pepe. The three-foot-long sewer rat shrieked a warning, which prompted Emma to straighten. While anyone else might have screamed at the sight of the huge rat or thrown something at it, Emma only leaned against the side of her bike to look down at Pepe.

  She had become well-versed in not only the verbal language of the city’s rats but their body language as well. From the way Pepe’s whiskers twitched and the wideness of his eyes, Emma knew something terrible had happened. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a series of hisses and squeaks.

  From what Pepe said, there had been an explosion in the sewers. The Sewer Rat—known in a past life as Jim Rizzard—had been caught up in the explosion. “Is he hurt?” she asked. The rat couldn’t be certain. There had been an explosion and falling debris and then Jim was gone.

  “I’ll find him,” Emma said. “Lead the way.” Pepe hopped off the seat of the motorcycle to let her climb on. He barely managed to get onto her lap before she took off.

  Chapter 4

  The motorcycle was the second Emma had owned. Her first she had been forced to sell after she lost her job at the Plaine Museum almost two years earlier. That bike had been top-of-the-line, its powerful engine made even more so by a few modifications.

  Rampart State didn’t pay as well as assistant director of the Plaine Museum, so her second bike didn’t have nearly as much horsepower. The engine struggled to get above a hundred miles per hour, which at the moment seemed painfully slow to Emma. She wove her way through traffic and tried not to think about the fact she didn’t have the magic armor on and thus could splatter herself all over the pavement if she hit a bump. Not only that, she would also kill Pepe, whose claws dug into Emma tight enough that she knew she’d have a few bloody marks later.