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Greenwald leaned forward. \u201cMy client would like to exercise his Fifth Amendment rights.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, it\u2019s okay,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cDom\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook, we never actually committed a crime.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jansen sneered. \u201cReally? Sounds to me like a conspiracy to obstruct justice.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThings aren\u2019t black and white.\u201d I straightened to my full seated height. \u201cI knew Johnson was trouble when I walked in. I needed to get him out of the office, and that was the fastest way to do it. I did not have any intention of actually dealing with him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExplain to me how that works.\u201d<\/p>\n
I flexed my fingers. \u201cSee this? My cyberlimbs are controlled by RKC-supplied chips running on an RKC-developed operating system. If I said \u2018no\u2019 straight out, what would stop Johnson from activating a remote kill switch? Or planting a virus?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were afraid of Johnson, then.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbsolutely. I was afraid he could sabotage my limbs if I\u2019d refused.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell the police?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know he got me into the morgue. What kind of pull do you think he has?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jansen snorted. \u201cYou really believe all that?\u201d<\/p>\n
Greenwald nodded. \u201cIf a megacorp can get a private individual into a morgue, what kind of power do they not have?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen how do you know I\u2019m not working for Johnson, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo reasons,\u201d I said. \u201cFirst, we wouldn\u2019t be having this conversation. RKC wants to keep things quiet. If you\u2019re in their pocket, I\u2019d be walking.\u201d<\/p>\n
Or dead.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the second?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSubsequent events made RKC irrelevant.\u201d<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know how he did it, but Johnson arranged the autopsy for two in the afternoon. At the morgue, when I told the receptionist my name, she directed Alex and me straight to the changing room and the adjacent autopsy suite. Without a police escort, contrary to standard procedure.<\/p>\n
The medical examiner was a Dr. Itzen Rosch. Achizotzes communicate emotions mainly through pheromones and ultrasonic hums, but I sensed the hostility behind her surgical mask.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou the contractors?\u201d Rosch asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Alex said. \u201cAnd you must be the medical examiner.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Which means I\u2019m in charge here. What I say goes. This is my autopsy, and I won\u2019t have civvies mucking it up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe won\u2019t get in your way,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI also noticed there aren\u2019t any cops to get in yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll behave,\u201d Alex promised.<\/p>\n
Rosch snorted, and went to work. Switching on the digital recorder, she ran through a formal recital of time, date, people present, and other details. Then she pulled back the sheet covering the corpse of Gerald Vandemeer.<\/p>\n
Kantun\u2019s description was spot-on. Rosch sneaked a glance at us.<\/p>\n
\u201cMessy,\u201d Alex said.<\/p>\n
I snorted. \u201cMeh. Inefficient.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rosch seemed disappointed, but Alex and I had seen and dealt harder deaths in the Near East.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is an official autopsy,\u201d she said. \u201cKindly keep your comments to yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
She picked up her medical instruments and went to work.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe cause of death appears to be exsanguination through the neck wound, coupled with severe blunt force trauma to the skull. The other injuries were conducted postmortem, including removal of internal organs.\u201d<\/p>\n
She launched into a technical explanation that went over my head, before examining the fatal wounds.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe neck wound appears to be caused by a right-handed individual slashing the throat from behind with a large knife. The head trauma suggests a strong right-handed individual smashed a heavy object repeatedly against the back of the occipital bone, cracking it open. These signs indicate that the murder was an execution.\u201d<\/p>\n
When she got around to opening the skull, I said, \u201cThe decedent has a neural chip implanted in his brain. Is it present?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rosch felt around. \u201cNo. In addition to the insult caused by the head injury, the brain has suffered tears consistent with the forcible removal of an implant. Like a neural chip.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe the slicing and dicing was a way to distract the police from its removal,\u201d Alex said.<\/p>\n
Rosch lifted her shoulders and spread her arms wide, the achizotz equivalent of a shrug. \u201cI\u2019m not the investigator.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rosch moved on to Rowan\u2019s autopsy. Same cause of death, but no neural chip extraction. As Rosch wrapped up, I said, \u201cI need DNA samples from the bodies.\u201d<\/p>\n
She crossed her arms. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to conduct a s\u00e9ance.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t do that without a court order.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alex grinned. \u201cOne court order coming up.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pulled his Apple iCast smartscroll from his pants pocket, unfurling it to its full length. He pressed his thumb against the home button, letting it read his fingerprint. The smartscroll chimed, and he brought it to Rosch\u2019s eye.<\/p>\n
She took the device, scrolled down the screen and returned the iCast with a human-like sigh. \u201cVery well. Take your samples. The casting point is over there.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pointed at a metal tile in the middle of the room, its surfaces etched with generic mana-enhancement glyphs.<\/p>\n
Extending my left metal-and-polymer arm, I passed my hand over the bodies, feeling for the lingering traces of a victim\u2019s soul. Of their mana.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t sense anything from Vandemeer\u2019s corpse. With a body this damaged, I wasn\u2019t expecting much. There was a time when I could conjure the souls of months-old dead from a fragment of bone, but that was before the surgeries. Before the blasts.<\/p>\n
Stella Rowan\u2019s body was something else. A slight spark ran down my dead fingers, touching the remains of my soul-body. Elves tended to have a greater affinity for mana. Like most elves she was likely a Tier Five, a sensitive. Enough to sense mana and derive passive magical benefits, not enough to pass an Academy entrance exam, much less use magic. There was enough mana left in her to call her back.<\/p>\n
I borrowed a pair of scissors and snipped off a few strands of hair, gingerly placing the hair in the central glyph of the casting tile. I stripped my gloves and washed my hands at the sink in the room. When I was ready, I charged the circle with mana, creating a barrier that mere shades could not cross.<\/p>\n
Settling into the lotus position, I placed my palms on my knees, lifted my head and said, \u201cStella Rowan! I call to you across the Void! Stella Rowan! I seek your last words on this Earth! Stella Rowan! Come to us in peace and deliver your testimony!\u201d<\/p>\n
With a flash of light, she returned. Pale and translucent, dressed in a white frock, the soul of Stella Rowan gasped, looking around the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere am I?\u201d she asked. \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name is Dominic Lee,\u201d I replied. \u201cI\u2019ve been hired to look into your murder.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMurder? I\u2026I\u2026\u201d She sighed. \u201cIt really happened, didn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m afraid so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought\u2026I thought it was just a nightmare. One I could wake up from. But I didn\u2019t. Where, how, I\u2014It\u2019s cold. Dark. I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFocus, Stella. Look at me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She did. A tear trickled down her cheek. \u201cI\u2019m\u2026dead. And there\u2019s no Summerland. It\u2019s so…dark. So\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStella, listen. The Summerland exists, you just took a wrong turn. I can send you there, but you have to help me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me about your murder.\u201d<\/p>\n
She shrieked. Rosch winced and recoiled, her hands flying to cover her ultra-sensitive ears. Alex did, too. I tried, but I heard her voice full-force in my mind, jarring my insides.<\/p>\n
\u201cThose bastards! Why did they kill me?!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStella, that\u2019s what I want to find out,\u201d I said soothingly, adding a touch of compulsion magic. \u201cHelp me find them.\u201d<\/p>\n
She blinked, wiped her eyes, and nodded. \u201cWhat do you need to know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me the first thing you remember.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was with Gerald,\u201d she said, straightening, her chin jutting out. Maybe she was daring me to comment. \u201cWe were on the bed\u2026but that isn\u2019t important. I remembered hearing the door unlock. When I looked up I saw four people enter my apartment.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat can you tell me about them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo were werewolves. Male. There was a\u2026a troll, too. Female. They were all cyborgs; their auras were\u2026dim. Like yours. And the last\u2026he was a human. Gifted. His aura shone.\u201d<\/p>\n
He was likely the one I\u2019d sent the sylphs after.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else do you remember?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey had\u2026they had guns. Big ones.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of guns?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHandguns.\u201d She threw her hands up. \u201cI don\u2019t know, I\u2019m not an expert.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s fine. What else do you remember about them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2026I don\u2019t know. It was too fast.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re doing fine. What did they do after they came in?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey pointed them at us and ordered us off the bed. Gerald told them to go fuck themselves.\u201d She grinned. \u201cThe troll said, \u2018You have something we want. Just hand it over and we\u2019ll leave.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid they know each other?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, not really. Gerald said, \u2018Who are you?\u2019 The troll replied, \u2018I work for Mr. Gramzin. He wants his property.\u2019 Gerald got mad, but he said, \u2018Don\u2019t hurt Stella. She\u2019s not involved in this.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cGerald got off the bed. I was going to, but one of the werewolves grabbed me and pushed me to the floor. I looked up and saw Gerald hand over his briefcase to the troll.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s in the briefcase?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHis laptop. He always carries it around.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, what happened next?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe troll gave it to the human. Then she said, \u2018See? That wasn\u2019t so difficult. You should have played ball when you had the chance.\u2019 Gerald said, \u2018So what happens now?\u2019 The troll walked around him and said, \u2018Close your eyes and look down. We\u2019re leaving.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cI had this\u2026sense that she was lying. I tried to look at her, but the werewolf forced my head down. He told me not to move. Then I heard this\u2026horrible\u2026gurgling sound. I wanted get back up again, but I felt a sharp pain in my throat. Then blood spilled all over me. Next thing I knew, I was\u2026well\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ll find them. I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice dripped venom. \u201cMake them pay. I want\u2026I want them to die. You understand? For what they did to me. And Gerald.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand.\u201d Standing up, I took a full, deep breath. \u201cStella Rowan, thank you for your testimony. Our time is done. Go now in peace. The Summerland awaits.\u201d<\/p>\n
I spread my arms and fed more mana into the glyphs. A rift between planes opened behind her, spilling warm light. Stella smiled, made a small wave, and the light engulfed her. The portal closed with a sharp\u00a0CRACK<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019d she go?\u201d Rosch asked.<\/p>\n \u201cA better place.\u201d<\/p>\n —<\/p>\n For more tales of magic, fantasy and high tech, check out my latest novel\u00a0HAMMER OF THE WITCHES<\/a>.<\/p>\n![\"Cheah](\"https:\/\/steemitimages.com\/0x0\/https:\/\/files.steempeak.com\/file\/steempeak\/cheah\/1KHJnJ4B-Cheah20Git20San20Red.jpg\")
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