Out of the Black (33 page)

Soon after her arrival here, the boys' father had admitted that his sons' full names were Aragorn and Faramir. Shooey.

There it was again- that stupid smile.

"Seek medical attention." The synthetic-tinged voice repeated from below. She looked at the clock radio mounted to the wall near her head: 12:30 AM.

She was tired, but couldn't sleep. She had the worst kind of cabin fever: the kind where a vast conspiracy of killers was looking for the cabin, and everyone dear to her was hanging out on death's rickety porch, sipping lemonade with the reaper.

Lying there in her fear and desperation, the smile broadened as she thought more on the boys' father: Barbarian by night, VP of marketing by day. In cyberspace, he was a burly barbarian with a wicked axe and a penchant for destruction. Out here in meatspace though, he was a family man with two sons and a sweet, round wife. He was fairly round himself, since he used a cutout to play from home instead of in a gym's VirtuaTrainer like she and Alex preferred.

He was possessed of an infectious smile and a red, round nose. Beardless with graying hair, he looked like Santa's son asserting his individuality. Yet within him beat the heart of a lion. Sure, online Rygar knew no fear, but there was no reason for fear there. Out here in the real world, though, when Rae had shown up on his doorstep with two vegetables in a shot-up microvan, Jerry Olafsen had taken them in. Though technically she'd never met him before, he'd turned out to be a true friend.

She'd located Jerry through the account information that Alex had hacked from their favorite game server way back when he was scheming for a date with her. Alex still had contact info for almost everyone in their online clan stored in his address book. Jerry was the only one within a three state radius. It was odd to think how much she owed to that little cache of illegally obtained info. Back then it had led Alex to her. Now it had led them all to shelter.

She really hadn't been thinking much when she came here. She only knew she couldn't use her Uni for fear of being tracked. This ruled out everything from refueling the car to buying food. Going to the hospital for Alex and Ping was out too. She couldn't shelter with friends because the hunters would search there first.

Desperate, she had finally delved into the loosely connected realm of geekdom for help. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find such warm welcome in the home of an online acquaintance.

"Seek medical attention."

In a weird way, she had relished unfolding their predicament to Rygar... er, Jerry. She had enjoyed seeing his skepticism melt into giddy interest, then leap over doubt's precipice into awe. At first, she'd been tempted to try some far less improbable lies, but then she came to her senses and realized she didn't need or want to lie. She'd seen gooseflesh as he came to believe, though her proof had been somewhat meager at first. It had basically boiled down to badges, wounded companions, and a story so improbable that no liar would even try it. Of course, her trump cards had been her cameo and Ping's sword. Also, she suspected that Ry... Jerry had wanted to believe so hard he could probably see the face of the fantastic in a bowl of properly stirred oatmeal.

When she gave him the whole story he had sent his wife and kids out of harm's way to visit his wife's aunt. He'd stayed behind to 'keep up appearances' at work, and because he said he hoped to be helpful. She had a sneaking suspicion he just wanted to see some action, just so that he could write it in his journal or something. She'd tried to explain to him that it's just a bit harder to share exciting stories when dead, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

What to do next? This was the question that had dogged her for two days of lying low. Her early plan called for Ping and Alex to wake up on their own, but now she was being forced to consider plan B... whatever that was.

"Hey Rae, seek medical attention."

Motionless before, now she lay frozen. The voice had sounded as synthetic as ever. After a few disbelieving seconds, she rolled over, leaned her head over the side of the bed and looked down at Ping. Comatose as ever, the medkit still attached to his head.

She considered pinching herself to make sure she hadn't dozed off. Nope... this was awake. She could smell Alex's rank two-days-without-eating breath, she could feel the bed, the covers.

She waited through the remaining seconds of the one-minute interval.

"Seek medical attention." The voice droned. Time to investigate.

She disentangled herself from Alex and the blanket. As she did so, she had a comfortable sense of precognition: together in their small, cozy home. They were old and gray, waking up late on Sunday morning, maybe expecting a visit from the grandkids. They would unravel themselves from their own blanket and smile like idiots.

She spared a moment to look at his sleeping face. She wondered how he would look old. She hoped she was going to find out.

One quick movement later, she crouched on the floor before Ping's bunk, a vision in silver-black cameo and sensible underwear.

Ping lay before her, swaddled in a Pachinko Molasses blanket. He just looked so cute. The child's bunk bed was probably the only kind of bed that would look too small for him. Like Alex, she and Rygar had stripped him and suited him up with the iron diaper and armband. She smiled again, remembering the unsavory scene of hooking them up with the bedpans and the IV feeders. Rygar had borne the brunt of the iron diaper part, thank the merciful heavens.

Ping's head was mostly hidden by the medkit. She'd retrieved it from the trunk of his destroyed car before they left the crash site. After she'd strapped it to his wounded head, it had stopped the bleeding and fused his cracked skull. Ever since then, it nagged her every sixty seconds to get more serious treatment for him. Being a police medkit, it was impossible to disable the urgent care warning, so she had endured it for two days. It wasn't that she didn't believe its advice... she just cn't see a way to get into a hospital without ending up dead.

Though she could see how the hunters had found them at Roy's, she still wondered how they'd been found at the library. Magic? Tech? Alex would have an opinion if he were around to ask. Which brought up another question that had been wracking her brain for these last days: what was wrong with Alex?

Ping's wounds were serious, but at least the medkit could tell something was wrong. That knowledge was somehow comforting. At least comforting compared to Alex's wounds, whatever they were. There wasn't a mark on him, but he just wouldn't wake up. Jerry had purchased a high-end medkit when he had bought the diapers and IVs. It had pronounced Alex healthy, but slightly anemic. As her dad used to say, "On a scale from one to ten, it was unhelpful". Good ol' dad- he was beyond her reach, too.

The world started to close around her again. The walls seemed to bow inward with the weight of a hostile world. Here she sat helpless as Alex lay comatose... a probable victim of a ravenous magic rabbit that had popped out of his hat to eat his brain.

"Seek medical attention, babe."

Her head snapped up. She was sure she'd heard it that time. However, sixty anxious seconds later, the same canned announcement she'd been listening to for days returned.

She checked the medkit. It had plenty of power left, and all the diagnostics came up green. But then there probably wasn't a diagnostic for demonic possession.

Ping still registered in serious condition with some form of medical mumbo-jumbo wrong with him. She checked the medkit for directions to the nearest medical facility. Mercy Memorial. Downtown?

There had to be a hospital closer than Mercy... that was a good fifty kilometers away on the near north side of the city. A feeling of significance washed over her. Alex had found a way to communicate with her... it was the only thing that made sense.

Two minutes later, she burst into the study to find Jerry's limp form in a recliner, dead to this world. From time to time, an arm or leg would twitch as some motor neural stimulus made it through the cutout. It was a sad, geeky sight. The only way she could rationalize Immersive Gaming was as a workout vehicle in a Gym.

She moved quickly to his side. She was giddy with possibilities, happy to have a course of action, no matter how vague and dangerous. She ignored all etiquette and ripped the cutout sense-tape from the back of his neck.

He made a sound halfway between squeal and quack. Every muscle jerked as the cutout suddenly stopped working and his brain was caught in mid shout to his online muscles. Well, he actually made two sounds... the second was somewhat more flatulent.

Rae laughed as Rygar again became Jerry. "Wha?" He said, clearly disoriented.

"Sorry Jerr," she couldn't stop laughing, "we've got to go... hey, you didn't just mess your pants didja?"

"Not sure... where we going?"

"Not 'we' we... me and the vegetables."

"They're awake?" He said, clearly more relieved than angry. He was such a good sport.

"No, but I think Alex just managed to send me a message through Ping's medkit."

He looked more confused, rubbed his eyes. "Let me guess: he told you to seek medical attention?"

"Actually, yeah."

He shook his head. "You are a strange woman, Rae. I'm coming too."

"No way. We're probably gonna die... Laura wouldn't bake me any more of that bread if I got you killed, too."

"Hey, I bake the bread around here... and you sure look happy about it." He said, levering the recliner into the upright position.

"About bread?"

"Going off to your death".

"He sent me a message." she smiled, triumphant.

"Seek medical attention?" he said, standing, stretching, emoting sedate skepticism.

She hugged him. "Thanks Jerry, you saved me... saved us all."

"...for a much better death to which you will now go?"

She paused. "Yeah." She gave him an earnest nod and a bright smile.

"How can I help?"

***

The stolen and dejacked microvan was loaded with their equipment. Jerry had helped her dress Ping and Alex. He'd helped her load them into the back seat. Her fletcher and the assault gun Ping had picked up were with Ping's guns and sword in a duffle on the passenger seat. Next to the duffle was a potted plant stolen from Jerry's den. While Rae changed into her work clothes, Jerry had wrapped the pot in red foil and ribbons, he'd even written a card that said "Get well soon, fictitious yet strangely believable relative." Next to the plant was a loaf of homemade bread- that was a snack, not more cover.

Jerry crouched at the driver's window. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You mean anything
else
." She put a hand on his arm as it rested on the window frame. "Thank you."

He smiled uncomfortably. "You sure you won't let me come?"

"Painful death is poor thanks, Jerr." She gave his arm a squeeze.

He nodded. "Should I go to the press if you don't make it?"

"If we die, forget us. It's the only non-suicide option."

He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "If you make it..."

"We'll be back." She finished, punching him in the shoulder. "Alex still hasn't met you or the family."

He nodded, "Yeah. Don't be strangers. I'll want to hear everything."

"Count on it."

"Seek medical attention." The medkit counseled from the back seat.

"Seek medical attention." Jerry said, holding his hand up in solemn farewell.

"Seek medical attention!" Rae enthused, her fist in the air. Still smiling, she backed out of the garage, conscious of just how fast the warm lights of the garage were lost in the enfolding darkness.

***

Dek sat at one of his favorite sushi bars five blocks from Ivo's office in Rosemont.

Today the food he ordered was only cover. He sat at the back in a booth, rather than at the bar like usual. Asuko was on duty tonight, so he enjoyed some light conversation before she had to move on to other customers.

Alone in the dim booth, he pulled his tablet from his jacket and turned it over in his fingers. Before he could get down to the business of finding Ivo and Roy's killers, he had to find his second adopted father. Of course, this was assuming that Issak was still alive.

It was also assuming he could convince Kaspari to fight. Issak was a great guy, but he was just a bit lacking in the passion department. Ivo and Issak were like brothers- they'd known each other for centuries. Still, Dek had a shadow of fear that Issak would think more about flight than fight. It wasn't that Issak's heart was cold, but it seemed to Dek that it was just old and, well... somewhat pragmatic. Issak's mind was deep and subtle, and perhaps it ruled his heart a little more than Dek would like.

Dek loved him, warts and all... and right now, he was all Dek had left.

Here goes. He spent a few hundred milliseconds reconsidering the sketchy details of his plan: Check his messages, maybe call Kaspari- see what pans out. Sketchy.

With the planning out of the way, he righted the tablet in his hands and switched it on. Immediately after he passed the security locks, he was presented with new messages. There were three: two video feeds and a text message, all from Issak. The receive date marked the first video at ten minutes after he had fled from Ivo's downtown Lab. Dek tapped the message.

Kaspari's even features filled the tablet's screen. He was bald, with a tight fringe of iron-gray hair. His face looked stern as always, like the world's most patient wolf. Of course now that Dek had known him for decades, he realized that beneath the harsh façade was an atom-organizing discipline and focus. Roy had called him the RomuBorg once casually. Issak had a good laugh about it... he definitely had a sense of humor, though it largely focused on the ironic, like now:

"I like the decorating you did in the exam room. Much more airy." His face didn't crease with a hint of humor. His eyes didn't sparkle. His dry delivery was the envy of snooty butlers the world over. "Since I didn't see a stain below the window, I'm assuming that you will return my call, no?" He broke the connection.

Issak had the most exquisite accent; subtle, precise, completely untraceable to any origin language or region that Dek could discover. Though intriguing, it was barely perceptible, even for Dek. He had asked Issak about it, but had never received an explanation more satisfying than, "I've lived in many places."