Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3

by Green, M. Terry

  The second ball was black, the charred remains of a cremation that Dominique had bought from a funeral home employee for the price of a few packets of crack. It went into the torch with a slight pop and sizzle that brightened the flame and sent a wave of dense smoke over to the woman. As Dominique watched, the woman’s entire body slowly took on a darker hue, as though she were absorbing the particles. She was no longer transparent.

  The third and most important ball was, of course, red. This blood, though it hadn’t required trade, had cost Dominique personally. Rather than dwell on it, she immediately put it into the flame and watched as it began its work.

  The torch flared high and bright, coloring them all with its intense ruby glow. The heavy smoke drifted directly to the woman’s head and cascaded down the rest of her body. Like a silky veil, it slowly fell away, revealing the woman, eyes still closed, as though she were actual flesh.

  “Welcome back,” said Dominique.

  The woman’s eyes popped open at the sound of her voice and Dominique stared at them. She’d seen eyes that color of green only once.

  “I heard you,” exclaimed the woman.

  “And I heard you,” replied Dominique.

  The woman looked down at her hands and the rest of her body. “I can’t believe you did that,” she said. Even her voice sounded familiar.

  “Did Livvy send you?” she asked, looking from Dominique to the other shaman. “Is she all right? Will she be here soon?”

  The voice, the face, the movements–she was an older version of Liver. They had to be related. An older sister perhaps? No. Her concern for Liver seemed more than that and she was too many years older.

  It was her mother.

  “No, no, and no,” Dominique said, in answer to the questions.

  The woman looked confused and then worried. Far-off thunder rang from somewhere beyond the skyscrapers, and Dominique looked that way. Had Liver come back? She hadn’t realized how dark the sky had become. It was completely covered in clouds and small flashes of lightning were appearing in the distance.

  When she looked back to the woman, she was staring at the sky as well.

  Dominique quickly glanced at the weasel-faced shaman, who waited with an eager look on her face. Dominique nodded. Time to be done.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THE STREAM OF customers was non-stop today. The door had not stopped chiming. There were a couple of young women reading in the book section and another browsing among the clothes. Mamacita casually glanced up to greet the newest arrival. Disbelief was her first reaction but then quick understanding. The lay of Los Angeles had just changed.

  The dwarf took a moment to fold up his umbrella and leave it in the bin next to the front door with the others. His small hand lightly brushed a few drops of rain from the top of his shoulders.

  “Hello, Mamacita,” he said as he approached.

  “Mayet,” said Mamacita.

  “The years do not touch you,” he said with a hint of a French accent, smiling. “And it has been…a few, since I last saw you.”

  Mamacita smiled pleasantly back at him, aware that the customers were now listening and watching.

  “Yes, a few,” she agreed.

  Pete came to the front of his cage to get a closer look.

  “Pete?” asked Mayet, surprised.

  Pete was short for Repeat and he was only the latest in a line of identical white cockatiels. As they aged and passed on, Mamacita replaced them and gave them the same name.

  “So to speak,” intoned Mamacita.

  “Ah,” he said.

  Mayet stood a few inches shorter than SK and was older. His balding head was shaved close but his salt-and-pepper goatee was full. He was dressed in a brown business suit and was carrying a compact metal attaché case, as though he’d stepped off a commuter train.

  “It seems unseasonably wet outside,” he ventured. “I had heard it never rained here.”

  “Well, the weathermen just never seem to get it right,” she said, keeping her tone amiable.

  “How like France then,” he offered.

  He laid his gleaming case on the counter between them, looked her directly in the eye, and waited.

  Oh, yes. Los Angeles is changing–and not for the first time.

  It had been bound to happen and she always had her part to play.

  But so soon?

  “May I ask you to leave your cards?” she said.

  He slowly inclined his head toward her, a look of satisfaction on his face, his eyes never straying from hers.

  Rather than reply, he unlatched the two locks on the case and opened it. From it, he removed a carved wooden business card holder and a short stack of business cards, black with silver lettering–only his name and a phone number, a Los Angeles number. He set the cards in the holder and slid them to the middle of the counter.

  Mamacita then slid them next to the cash register, facing out.

  Mayet closed his briefcase, removed it, and glanced around. Everyone was looking at him, as expected. He looked back to Mamacita.

  “It is good to see you again, Mamacita,” he said and smiled.

  Although she nodded once and smiled back, she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the same thing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  LIVVY LOOKED UP from the latest book as Nacho coiled around her ankles. She had been in the walk-in closet for hours poring over every scrap of information on summoning that might help her to understand what to do for her mother’s fading in the Multiverse. The answer, though, was becoming painfully clear.

  There was no answer.

  The dark arts weren’t something you typically read about in books. It’d taken her months just to get this far. She replaced the book on the shelf, sighed and picked up Nacho.

  “What am I going to do?” she whispered into the soft fur on the top of his head.

  He’d been hovering nearby ever since SK had left.

  SK.

  Her mind wandered back to him and the kiss for the hundredth time.

  Livvy didn’t know how long she had remained sitting on the couch after he had left. Too stunned to move, she had barely been aware of him leaving. When she had finally gotten up, she was stiff and it was completely dark outside. She had even teetered at the edge of the couch when she stood up and had to sit back down for a second, more tired than she’d realized.

  He had kissed her–the moment that she had envisioned repeatedly, yet now she could barely recall it. Only a vague warm glow remained.

  Nacho squirmed in her arms because she’d frozen.

  “Sorry, Nacho,” she said and let him jump down.

  She closed the built-in linen cabinet at the end of the closet and thought of her mom. Her fingers lingered on the knobs as the sinking feeling in her stomach finally reached bottom.

  “Mom,” she whispered.

  According to the few instances where summonings had been described to researchers, it was barely considered possible. There was no information at all about the aftermath.

  Maybe it’d be possible to summon her again, once she’d gone–but Livvy didn’t want her to go. That was the problem. That had been the whole point.

  She shook her head and backed away from the cabinet.

  It wasn’t doing any good to stand here and debate it. Time was running out.

  • • • • •

  “Livvy!”

  Livvy heard her before she saw her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you!”

  Livvy barely had time to process what she was seeing before her mom was hugging her. She heard the water of the fountain splashing down behind her as she felt her mom’s familiar embrace.

  “Mom!”

  How this could be she didn’t know, but at that moment she didn’t care. She held her mom tight and closed her eyes. “Mom,” she said into her hair.

  A rumble overhead broke the quiet of the moment and Livvy opened her eyes. She had meant to stand back and start peppering her mom with qu
estions when a strange movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She glanced over, still holding her mom. It was just an ancestor spirit.

  She was about to look away when she realized something was wrong. The ancestor spirit, a middle-aged Asian woman in a saffron wraparound robe was staring at them and heading in their direction. In all her time in the Multiverse, Livvy had never had an ancestor spirit approach her.

  Not every dead predecessor became an ancestor spirit. Only the most venerated and powerful of elders managed to take up a permanent residence in the Underworld–a vanishingly small percentage. They came from all time periods and places and Livvy had often marveled at their appearances. But since they weren’t her ancestors and went about their own business, they typically passed her by without so much as a glance. In fact, she often felt as though she didn’t really exist for them.

  “Livvy,” her mom said. “Is this a friend of yours?”

  Livvy had been about to reply and say that this was an ancestor spirit except her mom hadn’t turned around. Livvy let her mom go and spun to look in the opposite direction. Another ancestor spirit was approaching–a tall, bearded, blond gentleman in a black suit. In fact, as Livvy and her mother turned, ancestor spirits were emerging from every street and alley surrounding the plaza. Unhurried and almost stately in their march, they came nearer.

  “I don’t understand,” her mom said.

  “Me either, Mom. Stay close.”

  She had hardly needed to tell her since her mom was already clinging to her arm.

  Livvy had never imagined so many ancestor spirits existed. The plaza was filling with them. The crowd was becoming so dense that Livvy couldn’t see through it. Without bumping each other and without a sound, they steadily approached, their eyes fixed on…her. It wasn’t her and her mom, Livvy realized, now that she could really see their eyes. It was only her.

  “Okay, Mom,” Livvy said lowly. “Let go now and give me a little space.”

  She felt her mother’s grip lessen and then fall away. Livvy stepped away from her. If the ancestor spirits had business with her, then let it be with her. She might also need room to call down lightning.

  “What do you want?” Livvy called out.

  Muted thunder rumbled up above but none of the ancestor spirits looked up or made a reply. Instead, they continued to stare at her and approach.

  “Just tell me what you want,” Livvy tried again.

  They were completely surrounded. The ever constricting circle of faces moved closer.

  “Livvy, what’s going on?” her mom asked, panic in her voice now.

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Livvy said without looking at her. “Just stay back.”

  Livvy raised her hand to the clouds where muted bursts of light flashed as though from a giant softbox. Unfortunately, the ancestor spirits took no notice.

  “I’m warning you,” Livvy yelled, though she had no intention of giving them more time.

  “Lightning,” she said.

  And waited.

  Nothing happened.

  She jerked her face upward and stared at the sky. The mass of clouds was thick and churning, as usual, with lightning arcing within but–was it a trick of the light? Livvy squinted. Was the darkest part of the mass separating, like an enormous dividing cell? No. The clouds flowed one way and then another. It was just the chaotic and random movement of the stationary storm.

  What in the Multiverse?

  Lightning had never failed her.

  “Livvy?” her mom said, her voice trembling.

  Livvy whirled toward her but couldn’t see her in the crowd. “Mom? Mom, where are you?”

  A hand was waving over the tops of heads, about five people back but moving further away. The crowd was flowing around her, centering on Livvy. The crush of the growing number of bodies between her and her mom was forcing them apart. The only unoccupied part of the plaza was directly behind her, in front of the fountain.

  “Mom, are you okay?” she yelled, beginning to back up.

  “I’m fine but I can’t see you. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” Livvy answered, though she was far from sure.

  What had happened to the lightning?

  She couldn’t help but look to the sky as she backpedaled. The energy of the lightning within the clouds could hardly be contained. Why didn’t it come down?

  When she looked back to the crowd, it was nearly on top of her. The faces in it were like a sea of varied colors. Some wore hats, some jewelry, some had beards, others makeup. They were silent faces but stern and all eyes were on her. They were close enough to touch and still pressing forward.

  She raised her arm again, higher this time.

  “Lightning,” she said.

  Suddenly, she felt the lip of the fountain crash into the back of her knees. She hadn’t realized how fast she’d been moving. Completely out of control, she fell backward with a giant splash. As the water rushed over her and drew her down, Livvy knew she only had moments but it was enough to see a bright flash that quickly winked out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “HOW MUCH LONGER, Pipsqueak?” Dominique demanded.

  “I’ll be done today, ma'am,” she replied, not bothering to look up from the soldering. “If the parts get here soon.”

  Dominique turned her glare on the door.

  Where was that Tambourine? She’d sent her to Mamacita’s an hour ago.

  The network configuration had grown to four homemade network boxes. Wires hung out everywhere, connected to each other, connected to the goggles, connected to the box.

  Dominique had the shamans write their names on their goggles so they wouldn’t get confused. It’d be easy in a rat’s nest like this. She looked away. She didn’t like mess.

  On the floor, lined up in neat rows and columns, there were twelve mats, though only ten were occupied by shamans. Dominique strode slowly past them, her rubber boots softly thudding. Several shamans seemed as though they were sleeping but some were probably high. Only one wore goggles.

  Dominique looked back at Pipsqueak. If she finished today, she’d want her squad ready for battle tomorrow. Now was the time to let them use the drugs she’d doled out. For the attack, she’d need them sharp.

  There was a knock at the door. It was Tambourine.

  “What took you so long?” Dominique barked.

  It was a tone that generally had people melting down in seconds but Tambourine simply reached into the plastic bag and brought out a business card. She handed it to Dominique. Then she dug out the crystal pyramid and set it on the table and handed the rest of the contents to Pipsqueak.

  The card was black with silver lettering. “Mayet,” Dominique read aloud.

  Tambourine waited.

  “So?” Dominique demanded.

  She flipped the card over but it was blank on the reverse. She looked back at Tambourine.

  The woman actually smiled, though it was uneasy.

  “There is a new dwarf in town.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ALTHOUGH LIVVY HAD moved, Min had decided to stay in Korea Town, though she had upgraded to a luxury apartment on Wilshire. It was sparsely and tastefully decorated with black lacquer tables and chairs with deep green cushions. A large three-panel folding screen hung on the wall above the couch, a delicate painting of black and white herons taking flight against a gold backdrop.

  “Thanks for seeing me quickly,” said SK, as he took a seat.

  “Of course, of course,” she said, following him into the living room.

  The low table was already covered with small bowls of various types of snacks: fish cakes on skewers, kimchee, deep-fried sweet sticky rice balls. Normally, he would have already been helping himself to the food but today he was distracted. Min poured two small cups of ginseng tea and sat down.

  “It’s about tomorrow,” he said.

  Min sat with her hands folded in her lap, her knees together, and nodded.

  “You’ll be networked
with Livvy for the job,” he continued.

  Min’s eyebrows went up.

  “I’ll smooth it over with the client,” he said.

  He already knew how it would look. The client had made this appointment with the all-powerful Lightning Shaman. Why would she need help?

  “You’ll be her apprentice,” SK said.

  Min gave a little smile and nodded. Both she and SK knew she was far beyond the apprentice stage. Her own talent was so completely overshadowed by Livvy’s, though, that few people knew she still practiced shamanism.

  SK nodded, relieved. “Thanks, Min. I appreciate this.”

  SK had thought about trying to get Livvy’s old crew together, at least the ones who were still in L.A., but he also knew the client would probably say no. To say that she wanted privacy when it came to her medical issues was an understatement. It was already going to take some quick talking to get Min admitted.

  Nor would he be talking to the client too soon. The less advance notice of the change, the less chance the media would find out. It was already going to be a frenzy. Outside the world of shamanism little was known about networking goggles but there were rumors–and all of them swirled around Livvy.

  SK reached for a skewer. “I’m still trying to find Dominique and these other shamans that travel with her,” he said before taking a bite.

  Min picked up her tea and took a sip. “I don’t think Livvy was too pleased to see me in the Middleworld,” she said.

  SK slowly nodded his head. “I know,” he said. “But I’m not listening to any excuses this time. Whatever the objections might be, you’re going.”