Never Trust an Elf

by Robert N. Charrette

  "Ain't gonna see Glasgian. Conference's a business deal wit da government, right? Well, da payroll boys don't do overtime, not da big boys anyway. So's it's gotta be over 'bout da time business is over. Which is 'bout now. We go wait and follow Laverty when he leaves."

  "And if he leaves by air?"

  Kham hadn't thought about that. "Ya got a better idea?" he snarled angrily.

  "I don't see any need to speak to Laverty. We got our confirmation from Dodger. Much better we retrieve the analysis on the splinter you got from the crystal's frame."

  "Go if ya want. I want ta hear what Laverty's got ta say."

  Neko didn't reply, but he didn't leave either. They found spots behind a vendor's truck a half-block down from the Jarvis Building. They waited, buying some food from the vendor so they wouldn't look too suspicious. Kham wolfed down the first of his dogs, while Neko was more fastidious in eating the seaweed-wrapped whatever-it-was that he bought. Kham was halfway through his second dog when he spotted a crowd of media types gathering on the steps of the building. He elbowed the catboy and pointed with his head.

  A few minutes later a knot of elves exited the building and were instantly rushed by the media. One pair of elves sidestepped the mob and walked down the steps unmolested, a trick which Kham knew required real magic, it was no surprise that one of the pair was Laverty. A sleek black Euro Westwind stretch limousine waited for them at the curb. Laverty got into the back of the limousine, and the aide, after assuring himself that his boss was safely inside, climbed into the front seat on the passenger side. The doors closed and the limo pulled out into traffic.

  Kham and Neko followed.

  It took a couple of blocks to catch up, but once they had, Kham pulled his Scorpion out and edged up along the Westwind's port side. When he was even with the rear door, he reached out and tapped on the window. The darkened panel polarized transparent, then it slid down, putting Kham face to face with Laverty. The elf was alone in the back compartment and the screen to the front was up and still dark. The red-haired elf gazed calmly at Kham as though it were an everyday occurrence for his limousine to be accosted by an ork riding a Harley Scorpion. Somehow. Kham suspected that the elf had known he was coming.

  "Ain't no way ta hold a conversation." Kham hollered over the noise of his hog.

  "I had not planned a conversation." The elf didn't shout, but Kham heard him easily anyway.

  "Make plans." Kham slid a hand down to the firm-point on his bike, where he had reinstalled the Uzi after the meet with Dodger. Laverty's eyes flicked to the weapon, then back to Kham's. There was no worry in Laverty's eyes, and that was spooky. But Kham should have known better. This elf had stood up to worse, even without an armored limousine. Kham and his Uzi were no threat to the mage.

  "Want ta talk about da Xavier Foundation?"

  Laverty's eyes narrowed for the briefest of instants. "A few moments only. Drop back a block and follow."

  Kham did as he was told. He didn't have much choice. Confronting Laverty this way had been a gamble, but perhaps it was now paying off. Certainly, he had been unable to think of any other way of contacting a Tir Tairngire council member without alerting Giasgian.

  The sleek, dark vehicle was easy enough to follow in traffic, especially on bikes. When other cars got between them and the limo, Kham and the catboy just slid through the jam on the road lines. There were curses and the occasional threat, but Kham revved his engines when cutting off those who offered the first, and gave the finger to the rest.

  After about half an hour, the limo pulled into an alley in the outskirts of the downtown business district. It was well past business hours and the area was quiet. It was too early for the after-hours delivery people and only the first scavengers were coming out, to scurry and hunt in the brief time they had before the cops began their evening patrols. The limo stopped halfway through a turn into a parking garage, the nose of the car disappearing into the structure's darkness.

  Laverty's window was transparent, and Kham watched him watching them as they approached.

  Kham brought his bike to a halt, but didn't bother to put down the kickstand. He draped his hands over the high-rise handlebars, fingers dangling. The sweat-warmed grips were a warm and comforting presence under his meat wrist, and the pressure sensors from his artificial arm gave him the same positional information. Either hand could reach a firing stud for the Uzi. Kham waited until the catboy's bike rolled up beside him.

  "Dodger says you're older den he is."

  "And you believe him, don't you?"

  "We know he was born before da Awakening."

  "Do you?" Laverty evaluated them as he spoke. He must have found them convincing, because he went on, "I can see you believe it, too. All right, then, I will not deny it. Dodger must have told you about spike babies. What else would I be but just an older spike baby?"

  "Many things," Neko said.

  "We got a good idea about what your kind can do," Kham said.

  "What about Urdli? Dodger says he's older still," Neko said.

  "He told you that?"

  Kham answered the elf with silence, and he was glad that the catboy played along. Let the elf make what he would of their silence. Laverty was playing information control, using innuendo and misdirection as a shield. Let him have a taste of it himself.

  "Very well then. No matter what Dodger told you. and however you react to what I have to say, I can see that you will draw your own conclusions, regardless of the facts." Laverty sighed softly. "I am not the oldest of my metatype, certainly. There are and always have been places that are foci of magical energy. Even when the mana is strong, it is stronger in such places. At these places, special magics can sometimes be worked. Urdli is Australian, and Australia has many of these focal points. There are only a few left in Europe, places like Stonehenge and an old crypt in Aachen, but the Pacific Northwest has many, which is why Tir Tairngire is situated where it is, as I am sure you have guessed."

  "Australia and the Northwest are wild places, or at least moderately so. They are places where man has not entirely disturbed the natural state as extensively as, say, in Europe, where he has lived and polluted and worked the land for centuries," Neko said.

  "As you say, the living world is the source of all mana, and mankind has not been kind to the natural world," Laverty answered solemnly.

  "So dere was magic before da Awakening," Kham said.

  Laverty spoke in a coy tone. "The evidence does seem strong, doesn't it?"

  "And there are cycles of magic, with this but the latest," Neko said.

  "If you wish to believe in cycles, perhaps you should go talk to Ehran the Scribe. I'm sure he will be happy to expound on the subject. On the other hand, such effort may not be worth your while."

  Ehran? Was Urdli a street name for the Scribe elf? "He's not da odder elf, is he?" Kham asked suspiciously.

  Laverty laughed as his window started to slide up. "Your small friend knows better than that." The elf was still smiling as the panel winked to opacity and the car began to roll. The conversation was over, Kham stared stupidly as the limo pulled the rest of the way into the garage and the roll-down grill slid into place, preventing them from following. What more could he have said or done? Would Laverty have helped if Kham had asked? He doubted it. For all his friendliness, the red-haired elf was still playing his own game, whatever it was. But Laverty's departure without threats or warnings suggested that he would not interfere should Kham and the others take up arms against the elf who had tried to kill them. Or the whole thing might just be an elven way to set them up. "Now what?" Neko asked.

  "Now we go see about dat fraggin' splinter."

  * * *

  "Good evening, gentlemen," the labcoat said when he met them at the back door of the facility . He looked something like a lab rat himself, all pointy nose and white hair and chinless face, but Cog had vouched for his abilities. Besides his price wasn't too bad. He led them inside and down a corridor that smelled of things Kh
am couldn't identify, but didn't like anyway. When they reached a room full of humming machines, computer workstations, and glass-fronted cabinets, the labcoat picked up a small glass vial with the remains of their sample and said, "I'd like to ask you a lot of questions about where you got this."

  "Ya ain't gettin' paid ta ask questions, just ta answer 'em."

  "No need to get testy. I understand the terms of our agreement. As soon as I can verify the transfer of the rest of the agreed-upon price, I'll answer your questions as best I can."

  Kham thought there was something off about the labcoat. The guy was too edgy. Nevertheless, he agreed to the transfer, watching quietly while the scientist verified it. More credits gone. Kham hoped it was worth it. Letting his impatience show, he asked, "How old is it?"

  The labcoat sat back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him. "Very."

  "Dat all ya got ta say?" Kham was livid. "You're supposed ta be an expert."

  "No violence!" The labcoat was sweating. "There are guards within call."

  "Dey ain't gonna be fast enough," Kham said as he pulled his Uzi. "You're gonna do better or you're gonna get ventilated."

  Neko spoke from beside him. "That will not help our position, Kham. There are a lot of guards."

  "Fine by me."

  "But not by me. Perhaps we should let this man tell us more. We certainly have paid for more. I am sure an expert of his caliber has more to tell us."

  Kham grimaced, reluctantly holstering his weapon. "Suppose so."

  The labcoat looked relieved, but his sweat had stained wide circles under the arms of his labcoat, and he stank. He tried putting a good face on it, though. "No supposition about my expertise, chummer. But I can't tell you what I don't know. This little sliver of yours is a puzzle."

  "Elucidate," Neko suggested.

  "Yeah," Kham agreed. "And tell us everything about it, too."

  The labcoat smiled in a way that told Kham that he'd shown his ignorance and allowed the guy to feel superior again.

  "Normally, we can place the age of wood by comparing the pattern of the growth rings with catalogued patterns from trees of known age, but your sample was too small for a dedrochronological analysis. The standard dating technique for organic material is a radiometric analysis using carbon 14 It is based on a comparison between the amount of carbon 14 remaining in the sample to the known ratio for living organisms, a fairly constant value. There are some variations in the ratio over time, so there are some correction factors to be applied, but in general, the method is quite accurate. The analysis was quite simple, but I didn't believe the results at first because the wood seemed so recent."

  "Just what didn't ya believe?"

  "All of the carbon 14 has been converted to nitrogen 14."

  "So how old does dat make it?"

  "I don't know."

  "Whaddya mean, ya don't know?"

  "I can't tell. The carbon 14 method is only good to about fifty thousand years before the present era. In organic materials older than that, all the carbon 14 has been converted, just as in this case. So, without knowing the context or having no other material that might be datable by another method, I cannot tell you how old this wood is." He held up the small vial and ruefully frowned at it. "Beyond saying that it is likely more than fifty thousand years old. Perhaps if you gave me more information? Some sample of the sediments in which it was found?"

  Kham started to lose his temper again, but Neko touched his arm in a gesture that was becoming familiar. Kham clamped down his anger while the cat-boy reached out and took the vial from the labcoat.

  "Arigato, doctor. We appreciate your efforts."

  They didn't talk about it until they had gone to ground at Club Penumbra. The noise, and the club staff, were their insulation, making them safe from listeners. Jim brought them beers. Kham downed his, but Neko just leaned over his glass and said, "You realize what this means?"

  "Yeah," Kham groused. "We just blew too much nuyen on a wurtless labcoat. Dat stick of wood ain't any help."

  Neko chuckled. "Not directly. But its existence is highly suggestive."

  "Of what?"

  "Of the longevity of elves and their magic. That frame was built by human, or metahuman, hands more than fifty thousand years ago. The carving and the construction were too advanced for the primitive cultures of the time, even if there had been any in the Salish-Shidhe back then. The carvings on the frame were derivative of those on the crystal, further suggesting that the crystal itself and whoever carved it are older still."

  "Ya tink da elves did it?"

  "They knew where to find it."

  "Yeah, so dey did." Pieces were beginning to line up, suspicions turning to certainty. If there were elves, there was magic, and if there were really old magic, the elves weren't telling the whole story. Maybe that Ehran the Scribe elf was the one telling the truth. Maybe there were cycles to the magic. It all swirled around into one shape, one thought that kept hanging there before Kham's eyes. Old magic meant old elves. Old elves that looked like kids. Immortality. "Dey got it, don't dey?"

  "It seems so."

  "Ya want it, catboy?"

  Neko sat silently fora moment. "Personally? No." That was not the answer Kham had expected, but the catboy sounded sincere. "Why not?"

  "Personal reasons."

  "Ya been a good chummer. I ain't gonna pry. But I gotta know sumpin' else. Ya gonna help?"

  Neko raised an eyebrow. "That depends."

  "Can't pay ya, leastways not yet."

  "Then you are going after it."

  Kham's throat was dry. He was scared. Going after the crystal meant going up against Glasgian and maybe the whole Tir council. He had a right to be scared. But the prize. Oh, the prize! "Gotta try."

  Neko smiled tightly. "I have to admit to being curious about the result."

  "Den you're in?"

  "I'm in."

  PART 3

  Harness the Talented

  19

  "There is a mage nearby."

  The certainty in Scatter's voice gave troublesome weight to the rat shaman's announcement. Kham looked around the sea of desks and workstations that surrounded him and his crew. He saw nothing; no sign that anyone had entered the room. The Weeze shook her head, signifying that she had spotted no one in the corridor. Over by the window, Neko was giving a similar all-clear. The Tacoma facility of Andalusian Light Industries wasn't all that big, but the tangle of buildings, garages, sheds, and warehouses offered more than enough places for even a mundane to hide, as they had proven in penetrating to this office structure.

  "Anybody wit him?" Kham asked, but the rat shaman ignored this question as she ignored most of his questions. Kham had to be philosophical about it; even if she answered, he wasn't sure he could trust her estimate. She had her own ideas about how to run things, as he had learned in their quarrelsome planning sessions for this run. Perhaps she was trying to force him into certain actions by playing information control, trusting that she could handle any problems. That would be trouble. Scatter had a lot more faith in her abilities, both as a magician and as a strategist, than Kham did, but he knew he could count on her to do her best, however little that was, as long as she needed their mundane firepower to save her hide.

  Walking over to the workstation where their decker Chigger was jacked in, Kham looked at the screen. The display of whirling geometries and shifting computer images meant nothing to him. For all he knew, Chigger could be playing some kind of arcade game. Damn, he hated depending on deckers. They were less reliable than magicians, which was saying quite a bit, and none of it in their favor. He spent a brief moment wishing he had Dodger for the Matrix work; he knew Sally Tsung thought the elven decker was wiz. Then he remembered that the elf would probably be even less predictable than usual in this context.

  He punched Chigger lightly in the shoulder. "Come on, get inta da files."

  Chigger just rolled his head back and sighed.

  "Hurry, Chigger!" urged R
yan, the new kid. Ratstomper and The Weeze had recommended him, saying he might be green but he was good with locks. They had already used him to get into the building, but the kid wasn't going to be any use to them if he panicked. From the look of him, Ryan was on the edge of letting his fear take control. Kham hoped he'd calm down; they didn't need a panicker. Ryan continued to urge the decker to greater efforts, while nervously fingering the snarl of amulets and talismans around his neck.

  It was bad enough they were doing this run with a first-timer kid. They didn't need one who had also lost his grip on reality. Ryan was dripping with the rat shaman's hoodoos, which in itself wasn't bad. Most of the kids in the Underground had them, though maybe not quite so many as Ryan. Those gewgaws would be worthless to him, magically anyway; Ryan was mundane. But whatever they did or didn't do, the kid believed they worked. Maybe the trinkets would keep him calm.

  What did worry Kham was the amulets his guys had taken up. Like Ryan, Ratstomper and The Weeze were wearing the silvered rat skulls and tangled bits of bone that were Scatter's tokens. Even Rabo had one of the skulls. Kham had noticed the way Ratstomper had fawned on Scatter, back when the Green Band's scuz-boys were working Neko over. Now, The Weeze had taken to backing Scatter's suggestions. Even Rabo had agreed with one or two of the shaman's ideas. Bad signs, all. Scatter was gaining influence with his guys, and she was the only available magician for this run. What was the next step?

  He checked on Scatter, thinking maybe she was doing something about the mage she claimed was nearby, but she was just sitting where she'd plopped herself down when they'd entered the room. Her legs crossed underneath her, she swayed slightly, occasionally humming to herself. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and the eyelids twitched irregularly, giving her a disturbingly uncanny look. She might be doing magic. Or she might just be wigged out on drugs.

  You just never knew with shamans.

  Ryan's exhortations were growing more frantic. So much for his faith in Scatter's magical protection. Kham hissed at him and told him to keep the noise down, but it was only a minute or two before the kid was back at it again. Despite Ryan's agitation, the only reply Chigger gave to all his urging was an occasional grunt.