Memory Hunter

by Frank Morin

  “The identities of those men don’t matter,” Gregorios said. “Only their handler is important, and anyone who can field a team like that deserves to be approached with caution.”

  They arrived at the third floor and skirted a wedding reception party. They left the hotel via a side stairway that led out a back door.

  “That doesn’t tell me anything,” Sarah said.

  “Right now we have to focus on getting out of here.”

  “You want me to drive Eirene’s car?” Tomas asked.

  “No. Skip the garage. You know better than to leave the same way you arrived.”

  “What then?”

  Gregorios led the way across the street and into Harrah’s Casino. The busy casino consumed the enormous main level, but they wove through the crowd without slowing. The smoky haze that filled the gambling hall reminded Sarah of the smoke-filled suite, triggering a shudder from the memory of the recent fight. She suppressed it as they exited the building on the far side.

  Traffic was heavy, with street cars and vehicles packing the area and the sidewalks crowded with people.

  “What’s the occasion?” Sarah asked as she followed Tomas through the crowds.

  “It’s always crazy down here near the river.”

  Across another busy street, they faced the abandoned New Orleans World Trade Center. It looked like it used to be quite a place, but Tomas explained that it hadn’t been reopened since Katrina. They passed near it, entered the Riverwalk, and crossed Spanish Plaza.

  Tomas pointed out the huge fountain, surrounded by benches, outdoor seating, and mosaics and information about the Spanish occupation of New Orleans. The crowds were heavy and a band was just finishing a catchy tune. Everywhere Sarah looked, people were enjoying themselves, oblivious to the dangers passing through their midst. Plunging into this energized area so recently after the deadly fight in the hotel left Sarah feeling strange, as if she were in some kind of surreal nightmare.

  “Wish we had more time,” Tomas said, looking calm, a little smile on his face as he studied the area. “This is a nice place to visit.”

  “Next time,” Sarah said. She just wanted to find a quiet place to regain her composure.

  They slipped onto a ferry at the riverbank just as it prepared to depart.

  “That was good timing,” Sarah said.

  “Why do you think we made Tereza wait so long?”

  “You planned to use the ferry?”

  Gregorios shrugged. “Always have a back-up plan or three if you want this life to last a while longer.”

  They moved to the wide windows of the main deck. With the crowds packed around the ferry, Sarah had expected it to be full, but it was half empty. They had plenty of room to find a quiet, open space.

  Tomas nodded out the window. “They recovered quickly.”

  He pointed out two men from the penthouse running across the square toward the ferry. They missed it by twenty seconds.

  Sarah sagged against him and let tension ease from her muscles. She gave him a weak smile. “We got away.”

  “They’ll try to cut us off on the other side.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Gregorios said. “I’ve timed it to Algiers Point. We’ll disembark at least sixty seconds before they can reach the terminal at best speed.”

  The Mississippi was wide and seemed to be running fast. During the short ferry ride, Sarah worked to calm her racing heart. After washing again in one of the bathrooms, she sank into a soft seat and leaned back, just breathing. She felt a little faint, but didn’t feel sick like she had after learning the truth about Alterego. The brutality of the fight still shook her. She could scarce believe they had survived.

  As the ferry reached the center of the river, she felt the current vibrating against the hull. It really was moving fast. She forced herself to her feet to join Tomas near a window where he scanned the river. “How did you learn to fight like that?”

  “Lots of training.”

  The problem was, he didn’t look like a trained warrior. Maybe a trained accountant, but not a fighter.

  “Well, you’re going to have to teach me some.”

  “That’s a very good idea.”

  He slipped an arm around her waist and pointed out the window. “I’ve always loved New Orleans from the river.”

  “It’s a fabulous view.” She leaned against him, happy that he seemed more comfortable sharing a little more intimacy. Did beating down a bunch of armed men make him feel romantic?

  “And magic doesn’t work over open water very well.”

  “What do you mean magic?”

  “Why do you think Tereza picked this city to host that transfer? New Orleans has long been a stronghold of the heka?”

  “The who?”

  “Heka. A more common term for those friki zoi.”

  Eirene had mentioning that term once, but not explained it. “You’re talking about those men. You called them enhanced. What are they?”

  “Dangerous. Around here they’re part of the broader voodoo culture.”

  “Really?” First gunmen trying to kill them on the highway, then the gun battle in the penthouse, and now voodoo? Sarah wanted to crawl into a dark hole and hide. “Is that why the city feels so strange?”

  “It’s part of it,” he said. “Most voodoo’s a bunch of fake tourist-trap nonsense, but there are a few with real powers. Those, the ones with real rounon, are heka, even if they don’t know it.”

  “Isn’t ronin what they call rogue samurai?”

  “Rounon, not ronin.” He exaggerated the pronunciation. “It’s an old word, Greek, referring to their rune powers.”

  “How could they not know they have special powers?”

  “The ones we fought today did, but not everyone discovers the truth.”

  “Is that why those men were so hard to knock down?”

  “It’s related. I hadn’t really intended to get you involved in this.”

  “But I am.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into. Once you know, your world will never be the same.”

  “My world’s already not the same,” she said. “Without you and Eirene, I’d have been lost.” She thought back to the struggle to escape Alterego, with Mr. Fleischer maneuvering to force her to sell her body permanently. If Tomas hadn’t helped her escape and win herself back, she’d be ... well, maybe nothing.

  “If you stay with me and learn the truth, you may never be found again.”

  Sarah drew him away from the window to some seats apart from other passengers. “Tomas, don’t play games with me. I want to help find Eirene, and I need to know who these people are trying to kill me. Talk.”

  Tomas smiled, taking her hands in his. “I’ve always loved your spirit, Sarah.”

  “Don’t get mushy,” she said. “Those men weren’t normal. Why not?”

  “Because they’re heka.”

  “I still don’t know what that means. Are you saying they’re some kind of voodoo priests?”

  “No. Voodoo is a misnomer. Heka is a blanket term we use for anyone with a rounon gift, or those who serve them.”

  “Explain rounon.”

  “You saw the man cutting into his leg?”

  Sarah shuddered. That had been freaky. “Yes.”

  “He and the big guy had rounon gifts. He was marking a rune, a special symbol, into his leg. That’s why he was able to suddenly move so fast.”

  “And the other guy’s huge muscles?”

  “Another rune.”

  “Why did he deflate like that?” It had looked like someone had poked a hole in an inflatable toy.

  “I removed his soul pack.”

  “That fanny pack thing?”

  “Exactly. It contained a dispossessed soulmask.”

  “Why would they do that?” Tomas’ weird actions were making a little more sense.

  “Because the heka drain the force from other people’s souls to fuel their runes.”

  Sarah recoiled
at the idea. She’d experienced hundreds of body transfers, although she’d only understood what was going on the last couple of times. The moment when her soulmask was lifted free of her body was surreal and scary. The loss of most sensory input, the complete helplessness. It was horrific to think of someone kidnapping her at that moment, using her in some arcane ritual.

  “So they’re like cannibals?” she asked.

  Tomas nodded. “That’s a good way to look at it. Most of the time, heka can’t gain access to dispossessed souls and have to resort to draining strength from the fully incorporated living. It’s harder to do, and they can’t draw as much. That’s where a lot of magic rituals come from, attempts to hide the runes. But when they can get their hands on the dispossessed, that’s when they become most dangerous.”

  “Tereza gave them souls,” Sarah guessed.

  “Most likely. No facetaker in good standing would do that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The situation’s more complicated than we thought,” Tomas said. “We’ll discuss her involvement later. The important thing is that they had soulmasks. With dispossessed souls, heka with an active rounon gift can apply various runes to draw upon the force of those souls and enhance themselves.”

  “What happens when the soul runs out of life?” Sarah whispered.

  Tomas shrugged. “Depending on the magnitude of the rounon gift, they might drain the soul entirely until it cracks and dies. Weaker rounon can drain the dispossessed to the point they never recover, even if they were restored to a host. Those people linger with broken minds, lacking the spirit to live normal lives.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Agreed. The runes grant the heka a lot of power though,” Tomas said. “But those two in the hotel had the weakest form of active rounon. They needed physical contact with the dispossessed soul to power the rune.”

  “That’s why the packs,” Sarah said, understanding.

  “Exactly. When I removed the packs, they lost connection and their runes fizzled. We call those heka Occultists, or Occans.”

  That explained part of his cryptic statement in the hotel. “You also mentioned Charlies.”

  “Charlatans. The other fighters had been enhanced, but lacked active rounon gifts. Those runes you saw on their backs were marked and activated by the occans. Some time earlier today, they drew power from a dispossessed soul through those runes. It’s a way for non-gifted people to fuel an enhancement for a short period.”

  “So they use other people like rechargeable batteries?” That was gross.

  “Something like that,” Tomas said. “The runes were basic symbols increasing strength and providing rapid healing. That’s why they could absorb so much damage. The soul force they’d absorbed earlier was spent healing them.”

  “That’s why you kept shooting them,” Sarah said, feeling a little sick.

  “Exactly. When the runes are first activated, they glow bright red. As the soul force is exhausted, the glow fades to black.”

  “So heka are voodoo priests,” Sarah repeated, trying to get it straight in her mind. “They can be occultists or charlatans.”

  “Not just voodoo,” Tomas said. “Heka are part of every culture. Voodoo is just what they call it here. In other places they’re labeled devil worshipers, witches, wizards, shamans, or any number of names related to the occult arts. It’s all heka, though.”

  “But you’d think people would notice dispossessed souls,” Sarah protested.

  “They’re easy to conceal,” Tomas said. “But some heka have stronger powers. They can mark their runes on the souls they plan to drain, activate twin runes on themselves, and fuel them remotely.”

  “Like wireless power sources?”

  “Something like that. It’s a higher level power, with pros and cons we can discuss more later. We call those heka Channelers.”

  “And they’re the worst?”

  “There are others,” Tomas said. “But I think we’ve covered enough. It’s a lot to take in.”

  That was the understatement of her life. She had come to New Orleans hoping to enjoy some time with him, talk Eirene into helping her, and begin the process of returning to a normal life.

  Normal had left them behind in Oz.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder, drawing strength from the solid feeling of his presence.

  He sighed. “I suppose we’ll miss that jazz band tonight after all.”

  She managed a weak laugh and wrapped an arm around his waist. “We’ll think of something.”

  Educate and inform the whole mass of the people ... They are the only sure reliance for the preservation of our liberty against facetaker manipulations or heka abominations. Greater powers may be terrifying, but only through knowledge may they be overcome.

  ~Thomas Jefferson

  Chapter Eleven

  Gregorios led the others off the ferry, scanning for threats. He saw none. The heka hadn’t managed to call any support in this area. He’d suspected they wouldn’t, but appreciated getting something right today.

  They escaped the ferry terminal without issue, caught a cab to a car rental agency, and headed west out of the city with Tomas at the wheel of a rented SUV. Sarah sat in the passenger seat and Gregorios reclined in the back, a fresh bandage on his broken arm.

  Although he had blocked sensory input from the damaged limb, the flesh had suffered significant trauma. It hampered his ability to function. The temporary body had served well over the past few weeks, but he would need a change. With the threat of heka operatives, he needed optimal performance. If only they had time to detour and claim his favorite battle suit.

  Tomas’ girlfriend slumped in the front seat, looking exhausted. She had performed well for an untrained civilian. Eirene had told him a little about her. The girl showed promise, but she had jumped into dangerous waters. He’d drop her off at the next exit if he thought it would improve her chances of escaping the brewing conflict, but she was already a target. He needed to understand how she fit into the picture.

  So many questions. So few answers.

  Above all else, he needed to track Eirene down. She had survived her long dispossession remarkably well, but he shuddered to think of the trauma she’d suffer if returned to another lead-lined box. Tereza’s involvement with the heka had caught him by surprise. The fledgling facetaker was but a pawn, but of who? She claimed good standing with the council, but also consorted with heka. Such a conflict of interest should not be possible.

  Was she still working for Mai Luan? More important, what did the council know? Questions multiplied in his mind as the miles slipped by and Tomas took a complex, zig-zag route toward their destination. It increased the distance many times, but gave him ample opportunity to scan for pursuit.

  Eventually Tomas glanced in the rear-view mirror and made eye contact. “If Tereza really is on council-sanctioned business, they’ll track your credit cards.”

  “All the traceable ones,” Gregorios agreed. “The one I used for the car is new, something Eirene worked up just the other day.”

  “What is this council you keep talking about?” Sarah asked.

  Gregorios hesitated. The more he revealed, the less chance she could ever walk away.

  Tomas glanced in the mirror again. “She should know.”

  “The situation is complicated enough. Do you really want her drawn in that deep?”

  “I’ll make that choice,” Sarah said with brave stupidity. “I owe Eirene, and Tomas owes me a vacation.”

  Gregorios sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Tomas has told you a little about facetakers?”

  “I’ve seen face transfers, the real ones without the machines,” Sarah said. “I saw Mai Luan and Tereza pull people’s faces off. Tomas told me they’re facetakers, people who can transfer souls to different bodies by swapping out the soulmasks. I’ve experienced it firsthand.”

  “That’s a good start.”

  “Eirene is a facetaker too,” Sar
ah added, as if wanting him to argue the point.

  “As am I.”

  Sarah turned to Tomas. “You’re not, though.”

  “No. We work together.” Tomas glanced over at her long enough for Gregorios to worry about the vehicle starting to drift.

  “What kind of work do you do?” she asked.

  Good question, Gregorios thought. The girl was sharp.

  “Specialized security.”

  “So, you’re a mercenary or something?”

  “Not exactly.”

  They drove in silence for a while as Tomas completed his circuitous route and took the Crescent City connection bridge eastbound. He eventually pulled off the highway near the airport.

  “So tell me about facetakers,” Sarah prompted finally.

  “There are other facetakers in the world,” Gregorios explained. “Most of us have come together into a loose organization.”

  “Ruled by this council?”

  “Essentially. They’re known as the Suntara Group.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Everything’s a long story with you guys.”

  She had no idea.

  “This Suntara Group doesn’t like you right now, do they?” Sarah asked.

  “Correct.”

  Tomas added, “Worse, they’re apparently working with heka for the first time.”

  That worried Gregorios the most. The evidence pointed in that direction, but he couldn’t imagine what might have driven the council to make such a crazy change in policy. Destruction of all heka was a millennia-old rule for a reason.

  Occasionally heka could prove useful, but each time one was turned, the decision to try was a calculated risk. The choice to power enhancements through the destruction of other souls was a cancer in the hearts of the heka, corrupting them and turning the vast majority of them into enemies of society. They posed a threat to the world order, an order the facetakers had spent centuries helping to establish.

  Exterminating heka with active rounon was a necessary part of maintaining a stable world. Gregorios had led the team responsible for removing such threats for a long time. He’d been labeled a rogue decades earlier so he knew too little of the current inner workings of the council to understand why they would now take the extreme risk to involve heka in their operations.