The Axeboy's Blues (The Agents Of Book 1)
Page 20
“It's amazing how much is the same,” said Adelaide. “At least once you get off that part of Bourbon.”
“So how does The Axeboy fit into all of it?” Edith wasn't ready to set the story down.
“Well, around the time when The Axeman jumped into Oblivion, The Angel of Death found that she was with child – The Axeman's child. When the child was born he was infused with similar energies as The Axeman.
“The Angel of Death tried to keep the boy in foster homes since her job was so demanding, but he would run away and wander the ghostly worlds and she'd have to drop everything and go find him. Their relationship was strained, and the boy began to fantasize about his father, embellishing the stories he heard, making his father into some kind of mythical god or hero.
“Then the boy snapped, began proclaiming that he was The Axeboy, and a month before I got sent to this time period he started killing trumpet players. You see, his father was a huge fan of jazz music. He even wrote a letter to the newspaper in 1919 saying that he was going to kill someone on the next Tuesday night, but that he wouldn't go into a home where there was jazz playing[23]. That Tuesday the whole city was alive with jazz music, and he didn't kill anyone that night. I believe the boy is trying to bring back his father somehow. The sound of trumpets follow him, like the ghosts of his victims are following him around, playing. I think he's going to try to use the ghosts to lure his father out of Oblivion. Whether or not that's even possible, The Axeboy has to be stopped.”
“So The Axeman might come back? To this time?”
“If that happens, and he still wants to get The Angel of Death's attention by killing people, who knows how The Agents Of will stop him. He probably won't fall for the Oblivion trick again, and he could be even more powerful. Who knows what Oblivion does to the mind of someone who's been pulled into it.”
The sun was setting as they walked onto Frenchman Street, and Adelaide raised a hand and listened for sounds of the trumpets.
“Hear anything?” asked Edith.
“I don't think so, but there are too many trumpets and other horns competing with each other. I might not be able to pick him out right away.” She looked around as they walked down the sidewalk. The street was busy but not packed like it would be within a couple of hours. Adelaide turned and looked Edith up and down. “I might recommend you start a workout routine. It might not be mandatory for a memory reading Agent, but you'll be glad for it once you have to chase someone down or climb a fence.”
“Oh.” Edith was suddenly very aware of how unfit she was. “Well, I'm not actually an Agent.”
“Ah, yes, I forgot. Well, you might want to start a workout regiment anyway, for when you do decide to be an Agent.” She smirked at Edith, then glanced around and up towards the roofs of the buildings and clubs around them. “We should get a higher view, where The Axeboy won't see me. If he does, he'll recognize me and shift into the ghost realms. Your first training exercise is to pick a strategic rooftop from which to survey most of Frenchman Street, and then to get us up there. Let's see if you can do it in seven minutes.”
File 32 :: [Mars]
“There we go!” said Mars.
She'd finished blocking off the one-block section of South Peters Street and sidewalk with cones, Street Closed signs and Sidewalk Closed signs, as well as several Movie Shoot in Progress signs. She grabbed the cart and started pushing the “ropes” over to one of the buildings which lined the street. Roman had spent a couple of hours pinpointing the exact location of the rip, which was much more stable now and roughly the size and shape of a streetcar. Roman didn't have a way to actually see the time rip, but had used an old pocket watch which he had hanging from a stick to find its edges and Mars had drawn a chalk oval around it on the street and sidewalk. Luckily the block that contained the rip was mostly abandoned and the building closest to the rip was all broken-windowed and empty. The rip itself didn't seem to be letting anyone through since they'd found it, but Roman had said that later he'd be able to open it up so that they can send everyone back at once.
She placed one of the boxes against the brick wall of a building and the box's suctions locked it into place.
“Are you sure you're a construction worker?” said a voice behind her.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She turned to the handful of men and women standing behind her, most of them looking around confused and dressed like they were going to a swing dance festival. She'd made up some signs that faced the time rip on both sides, the signs saying:
Danger! Collapsed Buildings Ahead!
Proceed and things are sure to fall on you!
Stay where you are, and we'll have things handled shortly.
Thank you for your patience,
--Construction Workers
“You're not dressed as a construction worker,” said a business-looking man. “You don't have a uniform or a helmet, there's only one of you, and these signs are hand-drawn on cardboard.” He motioned to her body. “And you're a woman.”
“Look pal!” Mars got right up in his face (having to look up to do so). “I don't know what magical land you're from, but I come from New fucking Orleans where women are bad ass as hell!” She looked over at one of the women. “Am I right?”
“Yes,” said the woman, looking over at the man. “Why don't you let her do her job?”
“Yeah,” said another, younger woman, who walked closer to the business man. “It's obvious that the other workers are dealing with the collapsed buildings.”
“Thank you, sister!” said Mars. “Now, unless you want to dirty up that fancy suit helping move giant piles of rubble, I suggest you stand back and let me do my damned job – which, by the way, is keeping your ass and the city's ass safe, all so that you can go back to work making more money in a day than I make in a month.” Mars took a step back from him. “Any more questions you feel like distracting me with? Or can I get back to saving peoples' lives?”
“No,” said the man quietly.
She felt bad about picking on him, but knew that she had to assert her authority or they'd all just wander off. Well, maybe she didn't feel that bad.
Mars walked over to the box and flipped the switch, the box humming to life. Then she wheeled the cart over to the other side of the street where she set up another box directly across from the first box. She flipped it on and saw the air shimmer between them.
“Now, everyone, I need you to keep clear of this area. Between these boxes is a current of strong magnetic energy designed to keep these two buildings from falling down. Please don't try to pass between the boxes. I'm going to be right back, just stay put. I'm going to go talk to the other construction workers and find out the status of the collapsed buildings.”
She wheeled the cart away from them down South Peters, then turned and headed over to Commerce Street and made the block, coming back down South Peters from the other side. She started setting up the boxes on the other side of the '30s people.
“Well?” said one of the men.
“Well what?” said Mars.
“What's the status on the collapsed buildings?”
“Just one sec. I've got to concentrate.” She flipped the first box on, then wheeled the cart across the street and set up the second one. She flipped it on and the air between them shimmered and waved like a desert's horizon, effectively boxing them in.
She backed up from the stream. “Now, what was your question?”
“You were going to ask the other workers about the collapsed buildings.”
“Ah, yes! It turns out there are major fractures in the street, and that the street is actually falling out from under the buildings in certain zones. This zone is A-Ok though, especially with these magnetic bracers. It's very important that you keep clear of the area between these boxes though – the magnetic energy will probably throw you back towards the ground.”
“How long are we supposed to stay here?” asked one of the women.
“Until we know it's sa
fe,” said Mars. “The mayor himself has got every construction worker and contractor in the city working to fix this problem.”
A younger woman peered past Mars at the street behind her. “What about them?”
Mars turned to see a couple of tourists crossing the street several blocks down. “Oh, they're way too deep into the Danger Zone. Maybe they'll be lucky and wander towards one of the safe zones.” The tourists kept walking and could no longer be seen. “Best to just focus on yourselves now.”
Mars looked up towards the building tops as the echoing sound of a siren and metal clashing against metal bounced through The CBD like it was a pinball machine.
“I'll be right back!” she said, already running down the street away from the '30s people. “Don't go anywhere!”
She zigzagged through the streets until she came to the parking lot of the Piazza d'Italia, where several Noisician Coalition members stood outside a large white moving truck. A female member flipped off the siren of her megaphone when she saw Mars running up. Trevor, a short muscular man with a thick black beard roughly the size of Mars' face protruding from his chin, was holding two metal trashcan lids he'd been slamming together. Mars jumped into his arms and he hugged her with the trashcan lids around her back and leaned back to pick her up off the ground.
“Thanks for getting this all together,” she said.
“Oh, you know I'd do anything for my Martian,” he said.
He let go and she dropped back to the ground, standing up straight and shifting into her best impersonation of someone in charge. “Alright,” she said to the Noisco members, who gathered around. Trevor had managed to get twelve of them together. They were all in their twenties, thirties, or forties, but Mars was pretty sure she was the youngest one there. They weren't in uniform, of course, but each one definitely looked more interesting than the average person. “The time rip is about two blocks from here. I've already got the area blocked off and quarantined. We're going to set up a fake movie set as a cover, so the average citizens of the city don't know what's going on.”
“We've got you covered,” said Trevor, walking her over to the rolled up back door of the moving truck and tossing in the trashcan lids. Inside were several spotlights, various poles and canopies and tents, as well as a crate full of walkie-talkies and headsets. “I'm working on getting some actual cameras. By tomorrow we should have the street looking like any old low-budget movie set.”
“I can't believe you got all this together already!”
Trevor shrugged. “I, like you, am adept in the arts of stubbornness and efficiency.”
“Ha! Well, are you all ready to go meet some of the extras in our movie?”
Trevor turned to the others. “You heard the Martian! Let's load up!”
File 33 :: [Roman Wing]
Roman Wing moved slowly through The CBD, walking behind his two captives and making sure they didn't stray or fall over. The middle-aged couple staggered down the sidewalk in front of him, and every so often he'd reach forward and gently push them back to the center of the sidewalk. Eventually they got to the quarantined area. They walked past the wall of signs and cones and tables and tents, where Julius was duct taping permits onto the sides of buildings and onto stop signs.
The Noisician Coalition members nodded to Roman while Mars shut off one of the boxes so he could lead his captives inside before she flipped it back on.
“Are they drunk?” she asked.
“No. They've ingested Wonder.”
“Roman!” Mars stepped closer to him and whispered. “You drugged them?”
Roman shook his head. “Wonder is not a drug. You should know that by now.”
She smirked. “Um, I think in this case it kinda is.”
“That would be like saying that feeding someone is drugging them. It's nourishment.”
“Tell that to Hansel and Gretel.”
Roman looked into the quarantine area and there were only about a dozen time-displaced people inside. “We need to do this faster.”
“How many were there? How many did you take back in 1934?”
“We need upwards of thirty.”
Mars whistled. “You need my help?”
“You should stay here. You've got a good handle on this. And we need a representative of The Agents Of to stay on site.”
“You got it, boss.”
Roman nodded to her and walked over to Julius, who was just about done taping up the permits. He seemed to be getting used to using the stub of his missing arm as a tool to get things done, holding up the permits with it while using a tape gun with his remaining hand. Roman's eyes scanned one of the permits. “Julius!”
“I did what needed to be done.” Julius finished taping up a permit. “Everything went perfectly.”
Roman swallowed as his eyes scanned the large, familiar seal on the bottom of the permit – the depiction of a tall statue standing in a pond and playing a flute, with a large tree spreading up to make a halo of branches around the figure. The Seal of the Two Sisters.
“You should have consulted me.” Roman walked closer so their conversation wouldn't be overheard by Mars or the Noisician Coalition.
“You would have said 'no'.”
“Because you shouldn't have gone! You could have gone to City Hall. We could have made fake ones.”
Julius glanced down at Roman's hands, which were clenching in and out of fists. “You're getting too emotional. You should eat some Wonder.”
“And you should take your life more seriously! You can't just go and throw it away like you used to! If you die, I'm not sure I could hold things together without you. What do you think would happen in sixteen, eighteen years when people start to realize that Bes isn't coming back?”
Julius stepped towards Roman, peering into him with his golden eyes. “The Agency and the city's safety hinges on me – not just what I am, but what people think I am. This persona that people fear, it has taken me centuries to hone – and now it's the only thing I fucking have. I don't reincarnate, and hell if I can figure out how I'm going to fight now.” He motioned with his cane to the buildings around them. “This persona is the only thing keeping anyone who's having a bad day from hunting me down and trying to kill me. I absolutely must act as though nothing has changed. A year ago I would have walked into that den of hyenas without a second thought, and it was more important than ever for me to do it today. Who do you think is the first person in the city to smell that something's different with me? Nimble.”
“So it was him you went to. Not The Sisters.”
“I wouldn't have had the patience for their bullshit. And seeing Nimble was more life-threatening and sure to start rumors. By now half the city knows I went in there and walked out. Which means half the city knows the Agency is back up and running, and that we're already strong enough for me to walk right into Nimble's den without flinching.”
Roman shook his head. “I don't like it. Your mortality brings another level to your actions.”
“You have to trust me, Roman. If I hadn't walked into Nimble's den today, The Agents Of wouldn't have lasted a year. If we had started operating and I was avoiding him, he'd know. And then there would have been no convincing him that something wasn't wrong. He would know that we were weak, and he'd prod us until he found the weak spot.”
Roman knew that if he ate some Wonder he would settle down and see that Julius' logic was at least partially sound, but the human arrogance in him was too ramped up to stand down. The safety of the Agency and the city was the only thing that could get him so worked up. He turned away from Julius. “It doesn't matter, it has already been done.”
“So we can talk about the time skip? I'm having a hell of a time finding people from the 1930s. Do you have any ideas?”
Roman took out a piece of Wonder and tossed it to Julius, who had to drop the tape gun to catch it. “When you find people from 1934, give them a tiny piece of this. It should sedate them enough so that you can bring them here.”
 
; Julius motioned down to his own appearance. “I'm a crippled and scarred black man using a cane and wearing old clothes. How many people are going to take a piece of strange fruit from me and eat it? Especially people from '34.” He tossed the Wonder back to Roman. “You can get away with it, because their minds barely register your existence.” Then Julius tried crouching to grab the tape gun, but he kept having trouble with the leg.
Roman walked over and picked up the tape gun and handed it to him. “If we go back to headquarters I can fix up the leg.”
“It can wait until tonight. It'll be easier to look for these people while the sun's still out. I'll take upriver, you take downriver.”
Roman nodded and started walking towards The Quarter.
File 34 :: [Adelaide LaCoste]
Right off the bat Adelaide was impressed by Edith in two ways. Firstly, out of the various rooftops around Frenchman Street, Edith picked what Adelaide had judged to be the third most strategic of lookout points, and the difference between it and the other two points was rather minuscule.
It took Edith just over four minutes to get them onto the rooftop, which was not necessarily impressive – anyone off the street should be able to do as much. No, it was the way in which Edith got them up there that impressed Adelaide.
Edith had stood in the middle of the street, looking up at the roofs and the clubs below. She picked a cluster of roofs that looked flat enough and walked towards the clubs two stories beneath them. She seemed to be figuring out how to climb over the old wooden gate to the alley between one club and the next, when suddenly she turned and looked at the gate. Adelaide stayed silent, watching as Edith reached towards the gate and opened her hand, yet didn't touch it. Then she shook her head, whispering. She nodded and the gate clicked open.
Adelaide followed her through into the alley, shutting the gate behind them. There were plenty of pipes going up the side of the building and a balcony they could get onto, but she followed Edith down and around to the back. When she turned the corner Edith was already picking up a very tall sliding ladder and propping it up against the back of the building. She pulled the thin rope dangling from it and it slid even taller, until the top was resting against the roof. Adelaide followed her up the ladder and onto the roof.