{"id":5086,"date":"2018-11-12T02:23:57","date_gmt":"2018-11-12T02:23:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=5086"},"modified":"2018-11-12T02:23:57","modified_gmt":"2018-11-12T02:23:57","slug":"have-cash-will-conjure-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=5086","title":{"rendered":"Have Cash, Will Conjure Part 1"},"content":{"rendered":"
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My lawyer has a reputation for melodrama, and today he was in fine form.<\/p>\n

\u201cDetective Jansen! Why is my client in a prison jumpsuit?\u201d Abraham Greenwald demanded.<\/p>\n

Jansen, huge even by troll standards, towered over the diminutive gnome. \u201cMr. Greenwald, his clothes were soaked with blood. They\u2019re being held for evidence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvidence.\u201d Greenwald sniffed. \u201cMy client\u2019s been here for, what, six hours? Without a shower?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had to take biological samples from his body. Evidence, you understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve taken your evidence already, yes? He reeks and you won\u2019t let him shower? This is a violation of police ethics. I\u2019ll file a complaint with Internal Affairs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBe my guest. Please, sit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jansen showed him his chair. Greenwald sat on my right, scowling at the handcuffs bolting me to the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Lee has been very cooperative. Why is he still handcuffed?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jansen eased into his tiny chair. It protested. \u201cThe District Attorney wants to charge him for murder.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMurder? The reporting officer herself said it was clear-cut self-defense.\u201d Greenwald adjusted his spectacles. \u201cOh, wait. It\u2019s election season, and Vaas Torvale brands himself as a protector of minority rights. What better way than to put humans in jail, eh? Tell me, how long has my client been handcuffed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSix hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s illegal! He could suffer\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNerve damage?\u201d Jansen smiled. \u201cHis limbs are biomechatronic. Just polymer and metal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMental distress.\u201d Greenwald leaned in. \u201cRemember Jack Ostellan?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s standard procedure to keep cyborgs cuffed during interviews. Remember Cora Kinsley?\u201d<\/p>\n

Greenwald curled his lip. \u201cTime is precious. Let\u2019s get on with this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d Jansen cleared his throat, turning to me. \u201cMr. Lee, we are here to establish the facts of the case.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told Officer Bronson everything,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n

My voice cracked. In the quarter-day between my request for a lawyer and the moment Greenwald stepped in, I had said nothing and drunk even less. Jansen had brought in a cup of water, and I sipped slowly at it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told her what happened during the incident,\u201d Jansen said. \u201cWhat I\u2019m here to do is establish the wider context.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. Ask your questions,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s get the formalities out of the way.\u201d Jansen set a thick black notebook and a blue pen on the table. He recited the time and date of the interview for the recording devices in the interview room, followed by the usual minutiae of who was present and what they did. He ended it with a boilerplate warning.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Lee, you are on record as a Tier One conjurer. You are formally advised to refrain from using magic. The room is warded against magic, and any attempt to break the ward will be viewed as an escape attempt. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

The ward\u2019s energies thrummed in my blood and bones, disrupting the flow of mana. It was an itch under my skin I couldn\u2019t scratch. I could break the ward, eventually, but there wasn\u2019t a point.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcellent.\u201d He flipped his notebook open and clicked the pen. \u201cLet\u2019s begin. Why were you and Mr. Hanson at the scene of the incident?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were fulfilling our contract to your department.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat were you hired to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSolve a murder.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

Violent death leaves a mark. Lingering impressions of fear, despair and anger oozed down the hallway as I approached the victims\u2019 apartment. I didn\u2019t have to see the bodies to know they had died hard.
\nAn achizotz in a gray trench coat guarded the crime scene, pointed ears swiveling in every direction. As he sized me up, his coat parted slightly, revealing a badge clipped to his belt.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you Dominic Lee?\u201d he asked. His voice was unnaturally low for an achizotz, like a boy on the cusp of puberty.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. You must be Detective Kantun.\u201d<\/p>\n

The achizotz nodded tersely, extending his paw. I shook it hard, once. His coat was cut to emphasize his lean musculature, flaring out along the armpits to accommodate the vestigial membranes that, thousands of years ago, could have served as wings.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe moved out the bodies, but otherwise we preserved the crime scene,\u201d Kantun said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got samples of the people who walked the scene?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kantun unrolled a LokSak from a pocket. Inside were many smaller baggies, each holding locks of hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou call that \u2018preserved the scene\u2019?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was messy. We needed more people than usual to handle it. You\u2019re Tier One, you can handle it.\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t need the additional complications. Your hair\u2019s in there too?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYup.\u201d His eyes narrowed. \u201cAnd I\u2019ll be taking it back when you\u2019re done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Conjurers could do many things with a lock of hair. Not all of them benign.<\/p>\n

\u201cSuits me.\u201d I stuffed the LokSak into my backpack.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat can you tell me about the crime?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo vics. Male human, forty-eight, and female elf, twenty. He\u2019s Gerald Vandemeer, senior manager at RKC Biosoft\u2019s bionics division. She\u2019s Stella Rowan, part-time actress, third-year theatre studies major in the University of New Haven. The killer picked the door lock\u2014we found scratches on it\u2014and did his thing.\u201d Kantun\u2019s mouth twitched. \u201cMs Rowan is the registered homeowner, but Mr. Vandemeer pays the bills. Mr. Vandemeer is also married, two kids. You can connect the dots.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCause of death?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExsanguination caused by\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn English.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled, exposing rows of sharp, tiny teeth. \u201cSomeone cut their throats, ripped out their guts, removed their hearts and cracked their skulls. No defensive wounds.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWerewolf crime syndicates like to rub out traitors and screw-ups this way.\u201d<\/p>\n

It had been hundreds of years since the Cataclysm that had squashed several worlds together into this one, but some cultural practices died hard.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhile the victims are still alive,\u201d Kantun said. \u201cNot here. No way could the killer have done all that damage without attracting attention. He must have killed them quick and clean, and did all the messy stuff later. Oh, before you ask, the killer cleaned up after himself too. Forensics couldn\u2019t find anything useful, not even a hair or fingerprint.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why I\u2019m here. Time of death?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEight p.m.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEight? And when did you arrive?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeighbors discovered the scene at eight twenty-three. Crime scene established by nine-fifteen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDetective, it\u2019s close to ten in the morning. I got the call a half hour ago. What happened between then and now?\u201d<\/p>\n

His fists went to his hips. \u201cYou\u2019re asking the wrong person. I worked the scene until midnight, then went off to handle three more cases before coming back here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you have in-house conjurers?\u201d<\/p>\n

I would have been one of them, but the NHPD took budget cuts shortly after my application. However, the blues are always looking capable theurgists, and the cuts didn\u2019t extend to \u2018consultation fees\u2019.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey caught other cases.\u201d He crossed his arms. \u201cForensics argued all night before the chief approved your contract.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shook my head. \u201cThe older the scene, the colder the trail.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, that\u2019s why independents like you get paid the big bucks.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed. \u201cShow me the crime scene.\u201d<\/p>\n

He opened the door with a gloved hand. An iron tang wafted out, mingling with the scent of feces and fresh soap. My stomach churned, but I\u2019d seen worse, in another life, in a desert far away.<\/p>\n

As I walked in, the detective said, \u201cYou\u2019re a cyborg right? I can hear your limbs hissing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019re a Tier One? Doesn\u2019t magic screw with tech?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cArcanengineering has gone a long way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill can\u2019t match natural Tier Ones. Why\u2019d you get yourself chromed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot my choice. Just the best of bad options.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me expectantly, as though waiting for an elaboration. Millennia later, he shrugged, and I breezed past him.<\/p>\n

The apartment was a mess. Old, flaking blood covered the walls and floor. Most of it was spattered across the futon in the middle of the room. Little plastic tags marked points of interest. But the rest of the house was relatively untouched. The killer came in to do just one thing.<\/p>\n

Finding a clean spot in the middle of the room, I sank into a lotus position, closed my eyes, and breathed. When my mind stilled, I opened my eyes, and with them my astral sight.<\/p>\n

Multicolored streams and clouds swirled around me, becoming fuzzy figures and objects. The clearest one I saw was a golden-white head and torso, with faint dark arms and legs, striding into the apartment. That was me. Locking on to the door, I looked back into the past, to the moments leading to the kill.<\/p>\n

Two faint orange-hued subjects entered the apartment. One tall and soft around the middle, the other svelte and taller. They made a beeline for the bed, dumping their clothes across the floor. The sounds of their lovemaking drifted across time and space to reach my ears. Long minutes later, the door flung open to admit\u2014<\/p>\n

Nobody.<\/p>\n

I looked at the bed. Nothing. There was no trace of their presence, no record of what had happened.
\nI skipped forward through the nothingness. The door closed. It opened again, stayed open for a moment, and swung back without fully closing. Later, a human female opened the door, looked in and screamed. Then the cops arrived.<\/p>\n

The killer must have used a cleanser, a spell to wipe all traces of an astral presence. Every Gifted individual learns how to cleanse an area in preparation for a magical working, and these days, mundanes can buy one-time cleansers from a talismonger or download a cleansing app on a smartscroll. The killer wasn\u2019t a complete idiot.<\/p>\n

I left the apartment. Kantun was stifling a yawn. Achizotzes were nocturnal, making them ideal night-shifters. It used to mean something before the advent of the 24\/7 workweek.<\/p>\n

\u201cFound anything?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cStill looking,\u201d I said, and cast my gaze out into the hallway.<\/p>\n

\u201cLooking for what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTraces. Quiet. Need to concentrate.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grunted an acknowledgement as I sat down.<\/p>\n

It was harder out in the hallway. It was filled with interlocking mana streams, blending into a giant undifferentiated bog. I picked my way through them one by one. Most were too old or too fresh, and those I ignored. Of the ones that fell within the timeline of the murder, I compared against the hair samples Kantun had provided. I parsed out the victims, the cops, witnesses, bystanders, media\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cDetective,\u201d I called.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFour killers,\u201d I said. \u201cNot one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSloppy.\u201d Time was, I could hold a full conversation while maintaining my astral sight. Now I had to strain just to keep the streams from fading from view. \u201cThey cast a cleanser inside the apartment. Not outside. Got them coming and going.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you see?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t know, too muddled to make the details. Follow me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I followed the astral trail, and he followed me. I lost it inside the elevator. Took a wild guess and headed to the first floor.<\/p>\n

The lobby was a chaotic mess of dispersed energies. Even when I was in top form, I would have trouble picking them out. I breathed deep, took my time and\u2026<\/p>\n

Found one. More coherent than the others. I could tell he was male and roughly humanoid. I followed the stream out the door and the trail went cold. Between the sidewalk traffic and the sun, the trail was scattered beyond reconstruction.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d Kantun asked as I backed up into the lobby.<\/p>\n

I stretched. \u201cTime for magic.\u201d<\/p>\n

I set my bag down and returned the LokSak. Normally I\u2019d cast a cleanser, but I didn\u2019t want to disturb the scene. I used a different approach.<\/p>\n

I reached into my pants pocket, unfurled my Samsung Cosmos smartscroll and touched my SpiritCall app. Glyphs crawled across the screen, and the device grew warm. I breathed fast and deep, charging up with mana, and spoke.<\/p>\n

\u201cAsahail, ye of the sun and sky! Asahail, ye who fly on golden wings! Asahail, ye who gathers the wind! Come to me and answer my call!\u201d<\/p>\n

A loud crack split the air. A sylph materialized above the central glyph. Its mana capacitors exhausted, the smartscroll powered down the glyphs. The sylph darted towards me, her wings buzzing, leaving a trail of pastel sparkles.<\/p>\n

\u201cHiiiiiiiii!\u201d she said. \u201cYou called?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I want to hire you and your family.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYay!\u201d she squealed, dancing around my head. \u201cWhat work you need? Cleaning? Airing? Finding?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFinding.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOoh, we like finding! What you want found? We can find it, we can!\u201d<\/p>\n

I pointed at the trail I\u2019d found. \u201cYou see that? That\u2019s a bad guy. I need him found before he can hurt someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re on it! Payment?\u201d<\/p>\n

I unzipped my bag slowly, letting her peek over my shoulder. From an interior admin pouch I took out a lighter, a tiny plastic plate and a book of incense coils. I set the plate on the floor, and gingerly placed a coil on the plate.<\/p>\n

The sylph took a big sniff. \u201cOur favorite! More, more!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got another for you when you\u2019re done.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay, um, wait! No food and drink?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019ve got water and energy bars in my bag.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, no!\u201d she whined. \u201cWine! Muffins!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI gave you some on Monday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMonday is Monday, today is today. No pay, no work!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe goods I get for you is top-grade stuff. But you can\u2019t get them just anywhere. I can get them for you, but after you find the target.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, now, now, now!\u201d<\/p>\n

I shrugged. \u201cFine. So you don\u2019t want the incense too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo incense? But\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have incense now. I can give you food and drink later. If you refuse my offer, then I\u2019m not going to give you anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sighed dramatically. \u201cOkay, okay. Incense now, food and drink later. We have deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

I lit the coil. The sylph whooped in joy and spun round and round. Two, five, and then twenty sylphs appeared, swarming the coil and absorbing its essence. Moments later, the coil collapsed into a cloud of inert dust, and the sylphs vanished. I put my kit away, dumping the ash into a trash can.<\/p>\n

\u201cNeat trick,\u201d Kantun said. \u201cYou can download that app for, what, nine-ninety-nine?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat, and four years in the Academy lets you hire spirits without them screwing you over.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shrugged. \u201cIf you say so.\u201d<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

\"image.png\"<\/p>\n

For more tales of magic, fantasy and high tech, check out my latest novel\u00a0HAMMER OF THE WITCHES<\/a>.<\/p>\n

To stay updated on my latest stories, news and promotions, sign up for my newsletter\u00a0here<\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My lawyer has a reputation for melodrama, and today he was in fine form. \u201cDetective Jansen! Why is my client in a prison jumpsuit?\u201d Abraham Greenwald demanded. Jansen, huge even by troll standards, towered over the diminutive gnome. \u201cMr. Greenwald, his clothes were soaked with blood. They\u2019re being held for evidence.\u201d \u201cEvidence.\u201d Greenwald sniffed. \u201cMy […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[106,136,138,143,253,277,306],"class_list":["post-5086","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-cyberpunk","tag-fantasy","tag-fiction","tag-free-story","tag-pulprev","tag-science-fantasy","tag-steempulp"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5086"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5086"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5086\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5086"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5086"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5086"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}