Fractures: Caulborn 4

by Nicholas Olivo

  Treggen had a pet phasilion named Glenlori and had used him to travel back and forth between realms. In hindsight, I was surprised the asshole hadn’t brought backup to the Bright Side. Now I knew why.

  Harliss gave an exasperated sigh. “It is possible that when Karlegon tampered with the Urisk’s minds, he altered the phasilion, as well, making them living booby traps. It was the sort of thing he’d do. A pity. When the phasilion were able to bond with the Urisk, they allowed extradimensional travel with but a thought. It’s a shame that all the ones you recovered from the Caulborn were destroyed.”

  Whoa, hold up. The phasilion were Black Flash suits? That meant that Aviorla, the phasilion Lotholio and I used to travel from Boston to the Bright Side used to be a Venom-like costume? I was going to need some time to wrap my head around that one. I focused my attention back on eavesdropping.

  “Have you had any luck traveling to the Bright Side directly?” Treggen asked.

  “No,” Harliss replied. “Some sort of dimensional wards have been erected; likely Karlegon’s work as well. I must admit, it is impressive how he masked the Urisk’s existence from us. Even now, with the information you provided, we are having difficulty locking onto that plane. We will get there eventually, though. It is only a matter of time. Karlegon was clever with his traps and how he was able to avoid you all those times you were sent to assassinate him. That said, he was not infallible. We will find a way.” Harliss paused. “It falls to me to inform you, though, that your recent failure on the Bright Side is something of a disappointment to Sakave.”

  Even at this distance, I had no trouble telling that Treggen was clenching his teeth. “There was no way Corinthos could have known I was going to strike then. Those Urisk were completely unprotected. Someone must have warned him.”

  Yep, a future me did, pal. This must’ve been how Doc Brown felt when he finally opened that letter from Marty McFly warning him about the Libyans.

  Harliss spread his hands. “That is unlikely. None of my people had contact with him, and the only other person involved was you.” Harliss tipped his head to one side. “Perhaps your connection with the woman is going both ways? Did she detect your thoughts and warn Corinthos?”

  Hello, what’s this?

  Treggen shook his head. “No, I know what she thinks, but she doesn’t know what I think. Hell, she doesn’t even know I’m there. Even the Caulborn scans can’t detect me.”

  My mouth went dry as pieces clicked into place.

  Harliss sighed. “Very well. Ill fortune does happen from time to time, and perhaps that is all this incident was. We must move forward with the plan, and it seems, in the end, fortune may smile upon us after all. Reality and time have suddenly thinned further in the area, much faster than we had originally calculated. If it continues at its present rate, Lord Sakave should be able to forcibly enter this realm tomorrow night.”

  Oh, shit. Wheatson had said that when I fractured time, reality would weaken. He’d implied that other things might be able to force their way into our dimension. And now it was happening. Damn it all to Hell.

  Treggen nodded. “Excellent. I will keep you posted on the Caulborn’s plans as I learn more. Until then.” And with that, Treggen collapsed onto the table, his head hitting with a resounding thwack. I winced. That was going to leave a mark. And then, before my eyes, his body began decaying, crumbling into ash and dust. Less than thirty seconds later, there was nothing left of him. Was that how he’d escaped the Chroniclers?

  The scent of charred wood reached my nose through the peephole a moment later. For his part, Harliss stood and muttered something I didn’t catch while waving his hand around, as if he were trying to dispel eau de Treggen. I snapped the peephole shut and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. I jostled the dresser with my elbow, and Commander Courageous toppled off into my waiting palm.

  I looked at the vessel I had inhabited once, and possibly would again. How did I do that? I shook my head. This would’ve been a prime opportunity for Courageous to animate and give me some nugget of wisdom that might turn the tide on this situation, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. All right, Vincent, think. Courageous was you, so you’d be giving yourself advice, albeit advice from the perspective of someone with hindsight on the situation.

  I stifled a yawn. Well, the best advice I could think of right now was to get some sleep. We couldn’t act on what I’d learned until Croatoan had finished his analysis of the swamp, so I phoned Uncle Dave. I gave him the highlights of what I’d learned, with assurances that I’d give Galahad a full report in the morning. That done, I collapsed onto my bed and was asleep in seconds.

  Chapter 10

  So the question is, did Corinthos murder Rachna or was it really an accident? When we interrogated her via necromancy, she insisted he was innocent, which was the only reason why I didn’t order his execution immediately. Just the same, I want to see how this man operates for myself. If he is on the up-and-up, fine. But if not, well, accidents do happen.

  —From Inquisitor Xavier’s personal journal

  When I woke the next morning, I took a look at my mental to-do list. First, I needed to confirm a suspicion I had about something Treggen had said. He had mentioned he’d been reading the thoughts of a woman. And Megan had been in the room with Doc Ryan when I’d explained about the Urisk’s history and what the Black Flash podlings were. Megan knew all about the situation with Herb and the celestial metal. And Megan had once fallen under the control of Project Imperium, which had successfully discovered a way to bypass a caul’s protection from mental domination.

  But was it really possible that Megan was still somehow under Treggen’s influence? Even in the fallout of that thing with the Dominator, we weren’t able to successfully replicate Treggen’s results. The equations and formulae that had been assembled showed the possibilities of circumventing a caul, but there was nothing proving it. So either the Dominator had gotten lucky and somehow hit upon the right way to get into Megan’s head, or there was another possibility we were missing.

  Guess which one I was putting my money on?

  Something Thad had said was nagging at me; that extradimensional energy could discharge artifacts. I needed to test a theory. I portaled to Antiquated Treasures and grabbed the glow ball that Thad had shown me earlier. I touched it, and it lit up with its happy yellow light. I jotted off a quick note to let him know I’d borrowed it and portaled to HQ. When I got to the office, I touched the glow ball again, and again it lit up. Now for the test.

  I found Megan in her office, tapping away on her keyboard so fast it sounded like a machine gun. “Hello, Vincent,” she said, looking up at me. Her expression was warmer than it had been, lately. “What do you have there?”

  “Neat little trinket from Thad,” I said, tapping the glow ball so it shone. “Check it out, you just touch it and it gives off light. No batteries, no cords. I thought you might like it for your extradimensional shoebox.” I did the touch sequence Thad had shown me, causing the ball to hover at my shoulder level. “It’s brighter than a flashlight and can float for hands-free operation.”

  “That’s nifty,” Megan said. “Can I see?”

  “Sure thing,” I said, tapping the ball and sending it floating over to her.

  Megan stretched out her hand and caught it like a baseball. The moment she touched it, the ball’s light dimmed, faded, and then went out. She tapped its surface as I had, but the ball stayed dark. “Hmm,” she said, giving it a gentle shake. “Maybe it needs batteries after all.”

  “Yeah,” I said, my heart sinking. “I’ll run it back to Thad’s, he’ll know what to do.” I left Megan’s office, pocketing the glow ball. That solved one mystery. When Megan touched artifacts, she discharged their power sources. But why? I’d need to think on that more. But now, I had an unpleasant conversation in my near future. Likely s
everal of them. But the first one had to be with Galahad. I went down the hall and approached Leslie’s desk. Her silver hair was done up in a neat bun, and her half-moon glasses hung on a lanyard around her neck. She took one look at me and popped them on the bridge of her nose.

  “Are you all right, Vincent?”

  “Honestly? No, not really. I need to speak with the boss, Les. It’s important.”

  She nodded. “Galahad has been in there with Inquisitor Xavier and Croatoan for some time now. I believe he would welcome a distraction.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that, once Galahad learned the reason for my interruption. A moment later, the boss came out of his office. “The Inquisitor and Croatoan are still working,” he said to Leslie. “Please make sure they aren’t disturbed.” In a lower voice, he added, “And make sure they don’t get in the way of any of my agents.”

  Leslie gave a prim nod and Galahad turned to me. “Vincent. What can I help you with?”

  “Did Uncle Dave give you my check-in notes, boss?”

  “I have an email from him,” Galahad replied, “However, the good inquisitor has been taking up all my time this morning.”

  That didn’t surprise me for some reason. “Can you come with me, boss? Just downstairs.”

  Galahad nodded, and we headed downstairs and out of the building. Once upon a time, Treggen had planted a bunch of hidden cameras in our office. I wasn’t willing to risk anything being captured on film right now. The last thing I wanted was to tip that bastard off. I Opened a portal in the alley behind the office, and Galahad raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Vincent?”

  “Trust me, boss. Please. I’ll explain everything in just a minute.”

  He nodded and stepped through. A moment later, we were on the Bright Side, standing in my chambers on the top floor of my cathedral. Galahad staggered and raised a hand to his head. “Vincent? Where are we? How did I get here?”

  Right. Damn, I’d forgotten that when other people go through my portals, it scrambles their short-term memories. “Sorry, boss. I needed to talk to you about something important, remember? You agreed to come with me—”

  “And then you created a portal here,” Galahad finished for me. “Of course. Apologies, Vincent. It appears recent events are catching up with me.” Galahad looked around. “Is this the Bright Side?”

  It hit me that the boss had never been here before. “Yep. Have a look.” I snapped my fingers, and the doors leading out to my balcony swung open, revealing the twin suns and brilliant sky that gave my adopted plane its name. Galahad and I walked out onto the balcony, and he leaned on the railing, his smile wide.

  “This is a truly beautiful place, Vincent,” he said after a moment. “I can tell you are taking good care of it.”

  “I’m trying,” I said. “But there are things back home that threaten the Bright Side and the Urisk, boss. Treggen is back, and I think he’s been spying on us through Megan.”

  Galahad’s face turned grim. “Kindly explain that.”

  I filled him in on my suspicions and on the conversation I’d overheard between Treggen and Harliss. “I’m sure Megan’s not involved consciously,” I said when I finished. “I think he’s siphoning information from her somehow.”

  Galahad let out a breath as he looked out at the silver and purple landscape below. “Saints and angels preserve us,” he whispered. “If you’re right, Vincent, it would explain a great many things. But we don’t have any facts yet. All our historical data tells us that Caulborn are immune to mental compulsion and most other mental effects. If Treggen has truly found a way to bypass it, the consequences will be catastrophic.” Galahad tapped the railing. “But perhaps we can use this against him. When we get back to Boston, I will speak with Mrs. Rita and Inquisitor Xavier.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Rita I can understand, but why are you involving the inquisitor?”

  Galahad grinned. “Because if Treggen is drawing information from Megan, the inquisitor can feed quite a bit of falsified intel to him.”

  “Oh, I get it,” I smiled. “I like this plan. Turn the tables on him.”

  “Exactly. Let’s get back to Boston. Wait in your office until Mrs. Rita calls for you. And Vincent, thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

  “It’s what you pay me for, boss.”

  I portaled us back behind HQ and went up to my office while Galahad stopped off in Medical. I used the time to Glimpse the tachyon document that Commander Courageous had shown me. Skimming it revealed he knew how tachyon could be used to age a person, much like what the Tempus had done to him. So that’s what he’d meant; he’d known about that trick and how to do it. He could’ve stopped it from working, but hadn’t because his continued existence would’ve been toxic to the time stream.

  My phone rang twenty minutes later. “Vincent,” Mrs. Rita said, “Gearstripper said there was a good television show on channel three. Would you mind recording it for me?”

  “Um, okay,” I said.

  She hung up without saying another word. An animation suddenly appeared on my computer’s desktop. An icon of a television being dropped in via parachute appeared and then settled on my background. “Special delivery from Gearstripper” was displayed in a banner above the icon. I clicked on it and found myself looking at a camera feed in Medical Room 3. It showed Herb Wallenby, lying on the bed, the monitors and devices hooked up to him beeping and blinking. I clicked the record icon in the camera’s window and footage started being saved to my hard drive.

  Mrs. Rita and Megan entered a moment later. “Is Herb okay?” Megan asked.

  “That’s what I want to find out. His soul has been separated from his body for a time now,” Mrs. Rita said. “And I need to see if it has moved further toward the beyond. If so, I may need to remind him of why he should stay with us, and that reason, Megan my dear, is you.”

  Megan gave a tight nod as she moved next to Herb and took his hand in both of hers. Mrs. Rita laid out a series of shiny gemstones on Herb’s forehead, his heart, and several other key chakra points. I rubbed my chin as I watched. What was Mrs. Rita planning?

  As Mrs. Rita moved her hands over each of the gemstones, they began to glow with a faint pink light. Shimmering motes flicked around in the air as she ran her hands back and forth along the gems, drifting through the room like ash. Megan was oblivious to the motes, her eyes locked on Herb. Mrs. Rita seemed to be focused on him, as well, though her eyes flicked up at the camera, as if she were looking straight at me. The look on her face clearly said “pay attention.”

  I did. And a moment later, just for a few seconds, there was a flickering outline of a man’s form just behind Megan’s left shoulder. He was taller than she was, and while I couldn’t make out any of his features, the sun tattoo on the left side of his neck was clearly visible. Then the form faded and vanished. Mrs. Rita had her back to Megan at that point, and I don’t think Meg knew there was a camera in the room.

  Mrs. Rita continued working for a few minutes. Then she stood up straight and knuckled the small of her back. “This is good news. Herbert’s spirit is still close to us. Close to you.”

  “Could you communicate with him?”

  “No, child,” Mrs. Rita said. “The connection to his spirit is not strong enough to allow that. But he has not moved on. There is still hope.”

  Megan set her jaw. “Vincent and I will find what we need to fix this,” she said.

  “If anyone can, I do believe it is the two of you.” She gestured to Herb. “I will leave you alone, if you would like to speak with him. I am not certain he can hear you, but I do believe your presence would be reassuring to him.” Megan nodded and took Herb’s hand.

  I clicked the Stop Recording button and set my head down on my desk. Treggen was somehow connected to Megan. How was that possible? A caul was supposed to p
rotect you against things like this.

  I waited, mentally skimming the tachyon document again. Another fifteen minutes later, my phone rang. “Mr. Corinthos,” Leslie said. “Please join Galahad in the main conference room.”

  “On my way,” I said and locked my computer. When I got to the conference room, Galahad, Jake, and Inquisitor Xavier were already there. Croatoan was resting on the center of the table, projecting a map of Hockomock Swamp onto the far wall. I took a seat and nodded at Galahad. He returned the nod and motioned to Xavier, who began, “Croatoan has completed his analysis of the swamp.”

  Megan walked in just then. “Sorry,” she said quietly as she took a seat. “I had something I needed to tend to in Medical.”

  “As I was saying,” Xavier continued. “Croatoan completed his analysis. We have identified concentrated pockets of extradimensional energy here, here, and here.” Three spots on the map lit up. “Reality and time have been breaking down at a much faster rate than expected. Something’s happened, we’re not sure what, but the fabric of reality is much weaker now than it was just a day ago.

  “While the situation has gone from bad to grim, we believe there is still time to stop Sakave from entering this realm. Our window of opportunity is limited, though. We have less than six hours to shore up the fabric of reality.”

  A red line began to snake its way across the map. It reminded me of the travel cut scenes in the Indiana Jones movies. “Based on Croatoan’s analysis, we believe we can sneak past most of the nirrin by going this route. However, this path takes us straight through a clan of bukwus.”

  “Bukwus?” Megan asked. “I thought they were isolated to the Pacific Northwest.”