Differently Morphous

by Yahtzee Croshaw

  “Then may the consequences be on your own head. Diablerie suspects you may yet live to regret your prying.”

  Alison’s hands tightened upon the steering wheel. “Um. What consequences?”

  There was a very long pause before Diablerie replied. “None. None at all. There shall be no consequences except for a wasted evening that you could have spent doing something constructive, like reading an extremely interesting book. So warns Diablerie.”

  By now, he and Alison had emerged from the car. “I . . . need to . . . do something for a few minutes,” said Alison as she pushed the car door shut. “Sorry. Could you wait for me?”

  Diablerie remained in his pose, but his defiant face switched to a distasteful one. “What could you possibly have to do?”

  Having to lie was making Alison’s stomach tie itself in knots as usual. She thought back to the rough girls from her old high school, the one she had attended before the monastery, and the excuses they had used for skipping classes. “It’s . . . it’s a lady issue?”

  “What?” barked Diablerie, even louder. “You mean to disappear into the bushes and manage thy menstrual leakings?”

  Maybe it was Alison’s imagination, or just the movements of a swaying tree, but she thought a light had come on in one of the windows of the Danvers house. She reddened. “Yes.”

  “Do not tarry, then.” He let her scamper halfway to the bushes. “Hold. You are a virgin, are you not?”

  Alison didn’t turn. She kept her increasingly crimson face parallel to the ground. “Yes,” she repeated.

  “I thought so. Save thy soiled products. Diablerie may find use for them.”

  Alison hurried into the undergrowth before he could elaborate, dropping to a crouch in the midst of a large patch of green bushes. When she was certain she had broken Diablerie’s line of sight, and could hear him idly chanting the usual nonsense, she ran in the direction of Adam’s car, pushing herself off the trunks of passing trees for the small acceleration boosts they offered.

  When she reached the car, she found Victor Casin perched on the bonnet, fiddling with his phone with one hand and using the other to hold his trench coat closed against the evening chill.

  “Hey,” said Alison quietly, taking cover beside the car. “We’re here.”

  Victor’s unimpressed gaze briefly detached from his phone. “Yeah. We heard. Now could you fill us in on why we’re doing this at Danvers’s dad’s house?”

  “We found a lead on the Fluidic Killer video,” she said, stomach fluttering with excitement. “We saw Mike Badger at the place where it was filmed and heard him say he’s meeting with Mr. Danvers here. We’re going to find out what they’re meeting about.”

  Victor gave a nod of mock interest. “Hm. Intriguing. Except we’re not going to do that, are we. We’re bringing in Dabbers, and then we were thinking about getting Chinese for dinner.”

  Alison swayed, the wind driven from her sails. “Oh. Well, actually I do think this might be worth looking into . . .”

  “What’s that?” asked Adam, appearing from the forest in a flurry of disturbed leaves, fiddling with the belt of his trousers. “Oh, Alison, hello. Good to see you’re all right. Assuming you’re all right. Are you all right? He doesn’t suspect anything?”

  “No, I was just saying, I think we need to find out what’s going on at the house.” She began to give an account of the previous day’s events. Thirty seconds in, Victor and Adam simultaneously requested that she reduce it to only the most relevant details.

  “So you think the Hand of Merlin might actually have had something to do with the video,” summarized Adam after she had finished.

  “Who cares?” said Victor impatiently. “Everyone knows the video’s just a fanboy. We know they’re not the real killer ’cos we’re about to arrest the real killer, aren’t we?”

  “On pretty flimsy evidence, you have to admit,” said Adam.

  “Um, actually, yes,” Alison piped up, feeling like a guest at a dinner party watching the host couple argue. “What was it that made Diablerie the suspect?”

  “Oh, I assumed you’d know,” said Adam apologetically. “Since it was your credit card.”

  Alison was struck by the same profound sense of dire foreboding she’d felt during her nightmare vision of the Ancients, when she’d dropped into an ocean and felt something huge and horrible stir in the darkness below. “Um. Credit card?”

  “Yeah, it was something to do with some of the charges showing that whoever was using it was probably the Fluidic Killer,” said Victor dismissively. “And since it was nicked on your first day out with Dabbers, it felt like a fit, for want of anything else. Come on, let’s just nab him; it’s getting dark.”

  “What about this thing with Badger? Alison seems to think it’s important,” said Adam. “And it sounds like Diablerie’s trying to blow it off, which means it almost certainly is important.”

  Victor, hands in pockets, was already starting the slow drift towards Diablerie’s car. “Look, how about we grab him first, then we’ll get him to tell us what he knows and figure things out from there.”

  “Fine,” said Adam, moving to follow.

  “Um, ag, buh . . .” Alison’s mouth was filled with flustered syllables for a moment before she managed to squeeze some words past them. “I don’t . . . I don’t think Diablerie . . . could have been the one who took the card! I think I just, you know, dropped it, and someone picked it up.”

  Victor stopped, one eye boggling at her from under a raised brow. “Someone who just happened to be the Fluidic Killer?”

  “It’s not . . . totally impossible,” said Adam.

  “Oh, here comes the bloody white knight on his charging steed. Why don’t you two get a room so you can sit on opposite sides of it and avoid eye contact together?” He began to walk again.

  “I just think . . . maybe it’s not a good idea to confront him directly,” tried Alison, reddening further.

  “What’s he going to do, waggle his mustache at us?”

  “He can do magic!” she blurted out. “I saw him. He used runes to do a magic thing.”

  That made the two agents stop short. “Runecrafting?” said Adam. “I didn’t think anyone actually did that.”

  “Nobody does!” sneered Victor, running low on what little patience he had left. “Everyone knows runecrafting drives you insane.” His expression changed. “Wait. I just remembered who we’re talking about.”

  “You’re sure he did magic?” asked Adam.

  “Yes!” exclaimed Alison, gesturing wildly.

  Adam met Victor’s knowing gaze. “Well, that’s it, then. That’s the one thing I had left to clear up.”

  “What?”

  “I kept saying to Victor, I didn’t think Diablerie could be the Fluidic Killer, because he doesn’t have an infusion,” he said. “Remember when we were chasing them in Dartmoor, I could sense someone using magic? But if he knows how to use runes, then that clears that up.”

  “Oh,” Alison let her shoulders slump, defeated. “Right.”

  “Not quite cleared up,” said Victor, in a monotone. “I’ve got one last very important question regarding Diablerie.”

  Alison glanced up. “Hm?”

  “Where’s he gone?”

  Alison peered up the road towards the house and at Diablerie’s parked car. There was a marked absence of Diablerie himself.

  “He must have gone into the estate,” suggested Adam.

  “Shit,” offered Victor, breaking into a jog.

  “Um, I think it’d be best if I wait back here,” said Alison, carefully backing towards the bushes beside the road.

  Adam paused in the act of chasing after Victor and turned to her. “You don’t have to. It’s fine. I’m sure we could use your help.”

  “No, no, I . . . um, I don’t have magic or anything, so . . . I’m sure you won’t want me around needing to be protected.”

  Victor, halfway to Diablerie’s car, turned and yelled back, red
in the face. “If she doesn’t wanna go, she doesn’t wanna go! Come on!”

  “I don’t think we should encourage her to internalize sexism like that,” called Adam.

  “No, I really actually need to hang back,” insisted Alison, wide eyed. “It’s . . . it’s lady problems!” She hurried into the undergrowth, patting her pockets to find her phone.

  45

  JuniorAgentArkin: ARE YOU THE FLUIDIC KILLER?

  jess: what

  JuniorAgentArkin: THEY THINK WHOEVER USED MY CREDIT CARD IS THE FLUIDIC KILLER.

  JuniorAgentArkin: WHAT DID YOU DO WITH IT TO MAKE THEM THINK THAT?

  jess: nothing i just bought things

  jess: im not the fluidic killer

  jess: promise

  JuniorAgentArkin: SORRY, THIS IS REALLY STRESSING ME OUT.

  JuniorAgentArkin: AND NOW I’VE PUT THIS THING ON ALL CAPS AND I DON’T KNOW HOW TO CHANGE IT BACK.

  JuniorAgentArkin: COULD YOU JUST TRY TO FIGURE OUT EXACTLY WHAT YOU BOUGHT THAT MIGHT MAKE EVERYONE THINK YOU WERE THE FLUIDIC KILLER.

  JuniorAgentArkin: DID YOU BUY ANY BIG BAGS OF SALT OR GUNS OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT?

  jess: cant think of anything

  jess: oh wait

  jess: there were guns in some of the video games i bought

  JuniorAgentArkin: I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD BE IT.

  JuniorAgentArkin: MAYBE IT GOT HACKED? DID YOU USE ANY SUSPICIOUS WEBSITES?

  jess: no im careful about that

  jess: got a virus from one of those once

  jess: lost three whole seasons of clam patrol

  JuniorAgentArkin: I’M NOT SURE WHAT ELSE IT COULD BE.

  JuniorAgentArkin: DID YOU SHOW THE CARD DETAILS TO SOMEONE ELSE?

  jess: no

  JuniorAgentArkin: NO ONE AT ALL?

  jess: no

  jess: except reaver

  JuniorAgentArkin: WHO?

  jess: my online friend

  jess: he asked to see it

  JuniorAgentArkin: THAT COUNTS AS SOMEONE JESSICA!

  jess: i know calm down

  JuniorAgentArkin: I AM CALM.

  JuniorAgentArkin: IT’S JUST THE CAPS.

  JuniorAgentArkin: YOU GAVE THE CARD DETAILS TO REAVER?

  jess: yeah but he wouldnt be the killer

  JuniorAgentArkin: DO YOU KNOW HIM?

  jess: yeah i talk to him all the time

  JuniorAgentArkin: DOES HE LIVE IN THIS COUNTRY?

  jess: okay i dont know him THAT well

  JuniorAgentArkin: JESSICA, THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT.

  JuniorAgentArkin: COULD YOU TRY TO FIND OUT IF HE USED THE CARD FOR ANYTHING?

  JuniorAgentArkin: OR IF ANY OF THE SITES YOU USED COULD HAVE BEEN HACKED?

  jess: cant right now

  jess: doing filming with nita

  jess: actually shes starting to look a bit angry so im gonna turn my phone off for a while

  JuniorAgentArkin: WAIT!

  46

  Alison stumbled back to the road to find absolutely no sign of Diablerie, Adam, or Victor. Only their respective vehicles remained, like a pair of wallflowers either side of an empty dance floor. Alison jogged towards the mansion, intermittently breaking into a sprint in time with her jolts of anxiety.

  She reached the main gates and found them firmly closed. Frantically she tugged on the brass piping, but it was probably an electronic opener, and the gates didn’t open by hand. Instead, she grabbed the highest bar she could and began to climb. The gate was so busy with detail it was as good as a jungle gym.

  She dropped to the ground on the opposite side, and with the perimeter wall behind her, the scenery became less friendly very fast. The mansion at the top of the hill glared disapprovingly down at the trespasser like a stern patriarch. The driveway rolled inexorably up to it like a questing tongue, flanked by the occasional straight tree. None of her three colleagues were visible.

  It occurred to her that, in her haste, she may have made an error. Anyone in the house who happened to be looking out of a window would spot her easily, and the noisy clashing of the gate as she had struggled over it had almost certainly given them reason to do so.

  She darted for cover behind the nearest tree. There was a good thirty yards of open ground between it and her, and on the way she kicked several stones that skittered noisily across the drive, but no blaring alarms had gone off by the time she reached the tree, so she pressed herself against the trunk and tried to gulp her heart back down into her chest.

  From her new position, she could see the trees on the far side of the house, stretching all the way to the perimeter wall and beyond to join the wild surrounding forest. The smarter option would have been to come around the perimeter wall and climb over it there, so that one could approach the house using the forest as cover. Maybe Diablerie . . .

  A spotlight came on, blinding her.

  47

  jess: hey

  xxreaverxx: How’s the filming going?

  jess: okay

  jess: nita wants to take a break so she can drink something

  jess: can i ask you something

  xxreaverxx: Of course!

  jess: do you live in the uk

  xxreaverxx: Why do you ask?

  xxreaverxx: Are you that bored?

  jess: alison wants to know

  xxreaverxx: Oh. For one brief, beautiful moment I thought you actually wanted to take an interest in my life.

  xxreaverxx: Why does Alison want to know?

  jess: she has this weird thing that your the fluidic killer

  xxreaverxx: Oh right.

  xxreaverxx: Well, I suppose this day had to come eventually.

  xxreaverxx: Jessica, I am the Fluidic Killer. I am bent on the crazed, zealotry-fueled extermination of the inferior race, and I’m sorry that you had to find out this way.

  jess: are you being sarcastic

  xxreaverxx: No. How could I ever be so cold as to be sarcastic about such a serious issue as squelching fluidics.

  xxreaverxx: I am a monster. You have to stop me before I squelch again.

  jess: now i know your being sarcastic

  xxreaverxx: Wait. I must know.

  xxreaverxx: What was the chink in my armor? What gave away my perfect crime?

  jess: something to do with someone using that credit card i showed you

  xxreaverxx: Damn those pesky, meddling professional law enforcement officials.

  xxreaverxx: I thought I was so clever, betraying the trust of a friend and stealing their money to fund my terrible crimes.

  xxreaverxx: Which, just to reiterate, is something that I totally, totally did.

  jess: okay

  jess: i just needed to ask

  jess: you didnt have to be such a dick about it

  xxreaverxx: Wow, you still don’t believe me. What is it about my sinister confession that lacks credibility?

  xxreaverxx: I didn’t think it’d be this difficult to turn myself in.

  xxreaverxx: So much for the age of mass surveillance.

  48

  Adam and Victor were making their way around the perimeter wall that surrounded the Danvers estate. The enthusiastic jog with which Adam had begun the pursuit slowed considerably as the forest thickened and his wheezing reached a level that would give serious concerns to a medical professional.

  He leant against the wall to catch his breath and looked back at Victor. He had longer legs and had been able to keep up with a not particularly brisk stride. “Victor,” said Adam. “Could you please put your phone away now?”

  Victor glanced up. “You spotted Dabbers?”

  “No . . .”

  “Anything need blasting?”

  “Not yet . . .”

  “Right, back to my phone with me, then. Give us a shout when anything changes.”

  Adam bent double in exasperation, filling his lungs with air from between his knees. “You know everyone at the Department thinks you’re just a blaster with no mind of its own that needs me to poin
t it at things? You’re not doing a whole lot to prove them wrong.”

  Victor didn’t look up. “Who needs to prove them wrong? Everyone at the Department thinks you’re only good for finding things to point at because you’re as much use in a fight as a piece of wet bog roll. Reclaim the insult, Hesketh. Own it. Be the best damn bog roll you can be.” He gave a little sarcastic fist pump without looking away from the screen.

  Adam sighed, then straightened up. “You did remember to check in, right?”

  “Yes, Daaad.”

  “This is serious. We don’t know what Diablerie might be cooking up around here. Did you check in?”

  “Yes, I checked in!” snapped Victor. “I texted Danvers before we left and told him we were going to his dad’s house to pick up Dabbers.”

  “And he replied?”

  “Yes, he replied.” He waggled his phone to show Adam a screen of indistinct chat records. “He wasn’t over the moon about it, obviously, but I said we wouldn’t go in the house or mess up his old bedroom.”

  “All right, fine. Can’t be too . . .” Adam’s ears pricked up, along with his more abstract sense organs. “Hang on. I’m getting magic. Not much of it, but it’s doing something.”

  There was silence as he squinted and tried to interpret the signal, which was briefly broken by the little electronic click as Victor turned off his phone. “Dabbers and his runes?”

  “I don’t know. I dunno what kind of signal runes give off; I’ve never seen them used before.” His tone was closer to that of a child waiting in line for Father Christmas than a senior field agent assessing a threat. “If this is it, it’s pretty similar to a person with a magic infusion.”

  His phone pocketed, Victor created a blue flame in his hand, then extinguished it by punching his palm with a little whoomp noise. “Yeah, no one cares. Just tell me where it is.”

  Adam pointed to a spot leading away from the perimeter wall. “Over there. Be careful—the forest’s pretty dry.”

  Victor took a single step forward, punching his burning palm again, then froze with one fist clasped in the other. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I’m just saying, doesn’t seem to have rained lately. Everything looks a bit dry. So . . . be careful.”