Not a bit…Lisa replied. Don’t think a mosquito could get through these scales anyway. How about you, Sparkle?
“They’re not bothering me, either. Got a feeling even the bugs don’t want to mess with dragons.”
A series of very loud croaks sounded from the banks of the swamp ahead and were immediately answered by similar calls from the opposite side of the road.
“Wow!…Sounds like some pretty big bullfrogs.”
No, I think those are alligators, Lisa advised.
She let out a long, low dragon growl, and the swamp suddenly got incredibly quiet. Then came a series of splashes, as a dozen or so ‘gators suddenly decided they had business elsewhere down the bayou.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. Lisa’s mind-voice held a hint of amusement.
For I am the meanest badass motherfucker in the valley, Mark added with a mental chuckle. ‘Scuse my language, Spark.
“I’ve heard the expression before,” she told him. “In fact, I’ve known some guys—back in the commune—who really were motherfuckers, literally.”
It’s a bright night, but I’m finding that I can see a lot better than just moonlight would account for. Mark?
Right. It’s almost like the night vision gear we had in the Marines—not much color, but clear and bright.
So…what’s that in the middle of the road up ahead?
Don’t know. Guess we’ll find out…
As they got closer, it became apparent that the elongated lump ahead of them was an alligator—a really big alligator, probably between 15 and 20 feet long. It didn’t move as they approached, but when they got within 20 yards, it suddenly raised its head and spoke—mentally, the same way Mark and Lisa had been talking.
Hello dere! Welcome to de bayou, mes amis!
They stared at the gator in surprise. Sparkling’s jaw dropped, for she had also heard the mental voice. The gator looked them over, then spoke again.
Mr. Keel want very much to see you, but he figure you too big to fit in his cozy little place, so he send me out to be his sur-o-gate—is dat how you say it? Since he don’t like to go out much, I be his eyes and ears ‘round dis place. Of course, I also make sure nobody bothers him dat ain’t invited.
Well, he invited us, and here we are, Mark replied.
Dat’s true, so let me introduce myself. I am King Louie—and dis bayou may not look like much, but it is my kingdom.
Your Majesty…Lisa dipped her head in acknowledgment. We are honored to be in your presence.
Oh, de honor is mine! Louie showed an impressive mouthful of teeth in a ‘gator grin. And let me say, Miz Lisa, that you are de most beautiful t’ing these old eyes have seen in at least a hunnert years. If you were not already spoke for—he cast a sharp look at Mark—I would invite you to my island nest for a few days.
And you, Miz Sparkling…I must say, you look like the tastiest morsel I have seen in a while, but don’t worry. I don’t eat people, unless I first check with Mr. Keel, and I’m sure he gonna tell me you are not on de menu. Besides—they heard a chuckle in King Louie’s voice—I kinda think Daddy Dragon over here would get a little upset if I bothered you. He prob’ly gonna come up with a menu of his own, with Alligator etouffee as de main course.
Actually, I’m the one who does the fancy cooking. Lisa returned the chuckle. Mark specializes in barbecue…and sometimes he has a tendency to burn things.
Heh, heh…Yeah, I heard about de chupacabra. Dat little nasty prob’ly never knew what hit him.
Anyway…down to business. The giant reptile suddenly assumed a serious demeanor.
Mr. Keel want to make you a proposition. He know you are already LEI fran-chise-ees, but you do specialized stuff in your own place and don’t get out much. He want to know if you would be available for some field work for SAD in the future. He got nothing for you right now, but he figure maybe something could come up where it would be nice to have a couple dragons on call—strictly as in-de-pendent contractors, you understand, with a suitable fee paid for services.
Of course, dat would be something you would talk about when a job comes up—but he say he gonna be generous. I mean, it’s not like he can just call up de Dragon’s Guild and tell them to send over a couple of Shooters. Right now, de Guild got exactly two members.
Yeah. Mark showed a dragon-grin of his own. I’m kind of new to it myself, but I hear the membership list is pretty short. Lisa?
I’d be up for it.
OK…you can tell Mr. Keel we’ll consider it—subject to the job requirements, of course—and he can call on us when he needs to.
Don’ have to tell him—you just tol’ him yourself. Like I say, I’m his eyes and ears. I guess dat settles dat. If he need you, you prob’ly gonna hear from somebody local at LEI, or maybe Miz Witherbot. For right now, de only other t’ing is he got some advice for you. Up to you, but he hope you gonna listen to it.
Of course…it was Lisa who responded, regarding King Louie with curious attention.
Don’ let de dragons get too frisky. Jus’ keep runnin’ de Ferry like always, and keep de big secret to yourselves. If you need to be dragons for something, go for it, but don’ be sportin’ around wit’ it. You know SAD people have to do and see a lot of t’ings most people don’t even think about—magic and paranormal and stuff like dat—and de rest of de world don’t have a clue. Dat’s de way it should be wit’ de dragons, too.
I’m OK with that, Mark assured him. We know how to keep secrets.
Dat’s good. Now de next thing—about Miz Sparkling. Mr. Keel say it be good if she stay wit you from now on. She de only person dat knows much about dragons, and she should keep learnin’ more about it—for you as well as for us. He say maybe she should work for you at de Ferry, and jus’ be available to SAD when we need her talents—like dat contractor arrangement he gonna do for you. If you agree, he will let de SAD people back in LA know about it.
We already talked about that, Lisa said. We’ve kind of adopted her—like family—and we invited her to move in with us. Thought she would keep working for SAD, but I like this idea better. Is that OK with you, Sparkle?
“Yes, of course. I’d love it…if it’s OK with you guys…”
Of course it is! Mark and Lisa’s mental voices echoed in chorus.
Good! Scratch one more off de list. Now, jus’ one more t’ing. Dem wizards back in LA—Mr. Keel say they sometimes get pointy heads too big for their pointy wizard hats. He t’inks dey got de message dis time…but sometimes it takes more than one kick in de butt to get some people to listen. He just want you to know if dey bother you, you got his permission to slap dem down—however hard you need to do it.
If you got to go dragon, and he got to find a new wizard or two, dat’s OK. De most important thing is he don’ want dem messin’ wit de dragons, because dat could blow de whole secrecy thing.
Mark and Lisa nodded their understanding. If they leave us alone, we’ll leave them alone, Mark said. They don’t exist as far as we’re concerned. Otherwise…we’ll do what we have to do.
Great! Dat’s all I got. Any questions?
Just curious, Lisa asked. You said a hundred years…can I ask how old you are?
Heh, heh…I stopped countin’ a long time ago, but I seen lots of strange t’ings happen down here, ‘specially since people started coming around. I was just a little snapper when they had that big fuss here—the Battle of New Orleans, they called it—but you two are the first really new thing I’ve seen in a long, long time. I am so glad you came tonight.
And you’re an amazing new thing for us, too, Mark replied. I’m glad we came as well. But it sounds like the meeting’s over, so I guess we’ll be leaving now.
I guess so…au revoir, and have a nice trip back home.
Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty. Lisa gave another little bow.
A moment later King Louie was alone on the road. Gradually, the bayou chorus arose again, filling the
night with sound.
The swirling crimson and turquoise haze cleared quickly, and they found themselves in Lisa’s bedroom back at the Ferry—all three of them in human form once again.
“Right back where we started,” Mark noted. Unsure of their ability to transform themselves, they had tried to replicate the conditions of their first transformation as closely as possible. For that reason, they had chosen the middle of Lisa’s huge bed as a point of departure.
In fact, it turned out to be a non-issue. Lisa had simply wrapped her arms around Sparkle and nodded to Mark. Moments later, they had found themselves in the bayou. When the meeting ended, they had departed with equal ease, and now they were home.
“OK…home I understand,” Lisa said. “We know where that is, but how did we find our way to the swamp in the first place? I was just following you, but how did you know how to get there?”
“Don’t know.” He shrugged. “Witherbot said we would know how to find it, and I trusted her. As soon as we launched, I knew where to go.”
“Wizards, arcane arts, enchanted swamps…” Lisa grumbled. “What’s next?”
“Don’t forget talking alligators,” Sparkling replied with a grin.
“Don’t worry, I won’t ever forget King Louie. What a character!”
“He was right, though,” Mark told her. “You’re absolutely beautiful as a dragon.”
“Once again I forgot to bring a mirror…but you’re pretty handsome yourself, you crimson-and-copper stud.” She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “I wonder if maybe…hmmmm.”
“What?”
“Well, you know…maybe we could try a little experiment—figure out how dragons do it.”
“Hmmmm…that sounds…interesting…” He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in closer.
“Ahem!” Sparkling called them back from their fantasies.
“Right!” Lisa declared. “Behave yourself, Daddy…our daughter is watching.”
“Your daughter is wondering if you noticed that the two of you are naked,” Sparkling said with a snort.
“Well, of course we are.” Mark shrugged. “Dragons don’t wear clothes. And those…” he pointed to the two piles of clothing next to them on the bed, “would hardly have fit us anyway, so we had to leave them behind. At least Mom remembered to bring yours.”
“Which brings up another point,” Lisa added. “If we’re going to try that little experiment, I think we’ll have to go somewhere. I don’t think there’s enough room for dragons to play anywhere inside this building.”
“Yeah…probably have to find a deserted island somewhere, a place where nobody would see us. I guess we’ll have to put that experiment off for a while and just…do it the old-fashioned way.”
“Ahem…again!”
“Right. It was a busy night, and I’m sure we’re all tired.” Lisa said cheerfully. “Time for little Sparkling to run off to bed. And don’t be looking for Mom and Dad unless you have to. We have to…ah…you know, get some sleep.”
“Of course you do,” Sparkling replied with a wicked, knowing gleam in her eye, “especially since tomorrow’s a Time-Out day.”
Chapter Eleven: Time Out and Restart
It was Monday. Mark and Lisa woke up, untangled themselves from each other, exchanged one passionate kiss, then got out of bed in Time-Out mode. Mark headed up to his own apartment to put on what he called his “janitor suit”—jeans, heavy work shirt, and work boots—his regular attire for days when he did the maintenance tasks needed to keep the Ferry’s building running smoothly.
Lisa headed to her kitchen to prepare breakfast for three. Normally, she and Mark didn’t even take meals together on Time-Out days, but they’d decided to waive that rule this morning, since Sparkling was with them. Besides, Lisa thought with a chuckle, I’m sure Sparkle will be happy to remind us if it looks like we’re getting into any Time-Out-prohibited behavior. We’ve actually got a referee now.
“King Louie said you should work here with us,” Lisa told Sparkling over an eggs-to-order and pancake breakfast. “That means you’re going to need to learn the business side of this. I’ll show you how we set up client files, initiate NorthStar investigations, and prepare contracts. I’m assuming you’re at least reasonably computer-literate.”
“Actually, I’m kind of a geek,” she replied. “I can even program simple apps with proper coding tools.”
“Great—then you’ll appreciate the building control and security systems we’ve got set up. Mark programmed most of those from scratch, even built some of the hardware.”
“I’m kind of a geek myself,” Mark said with chuckle. “Programmed my own digital assistant interface—responds differently depending on whether it’s talking to me or Lisa. We’ll set it up to respond to you when I get a chance.”
“I’ll show you that stuff as well,” Lisa promised. “We’ve got nothing else scheduled for today, so we’ll just call this ‘Welcome Aboard Charon’s Ferry’—calm seas today, but keep your life jacket handy, because it can get stormy at times.”
Mark spent the morning servicing and testing the Ferry’s emergency systems—solar array on the roof of the building, the big backup diesel generator, as well as fire and smoke detection and suppression equipment. He then moved on to the security systems, including intrusion detection, video surveillance, and lockdown.
Finally, he checked the armory and the storage areas for emergency supplies. Most preppers would have been awestruck at the extent of the Ferry’s disaster preparedness. An entire issue of one of the major survivalist magazines could not have done it justice—but that issue would never be on the magazine shelves, because Mark regarded secrecy and operational security—OPSEC—as an important component of his preparations.
Not even the local building code enforcement people knew about some features, such as the 800-foot deep well under the building that could supply water indefinitely if public utilities failed. Testing the well and its pump system were among the chores on today’s list. But the systems had been designed and built for ease of maintenance, so Mark finished those tasks in the morning and then joined Lisa and Sparkling for a light lunch in the cafeteria.
After lunch, he left the women to their own mission and went down into the building’s basement. One more part of the operation we’re not ready for Spark to see, he thought as he pulled Donna Verona’s pickled corpse out of the brine tank. Using a purpose-built cart, he rolled her into the big walk-in cooler they called the ‘Meat Locker’ and laid her face-up on the big cutting table. He took a moment to sharpen the knives, then went to work—beginning with a careful incision that opened her belly from groin to breastbone.
“Rest in peace, Donna,” he told her once the process was complete. “And thanks for all the goodies.”
He loaded the packaged organs onto another cart and took them down the hall to the garage entry foyer, where he stored them in a locked refrigerator. He then sent a text to the biotech broker to call for a pickup. The broker’s courier would come by sometime tomorrow, the lot would be examined and sold, and the money would be in the bank by the end of the week.
Returning to the meat locker, Mark slid the carcass back onto the cart and did a basic clean-up. He then put the disposables bin on the shelf underneath and rolled the cart across the basement to the incinerator. It took another five minutes to get everything into the oven, after which he closed it up and started the burn cycle. He would return tomorrow to collect the ashes, which he and Lisa would use as fertilizer for their outdoor garden spaces on the roof and balconies of the building.
One last task—he went back and steam-cleaned the entire meat locker, sterilizing every surface, including the cart and disposables bin. Finished for the day, he peeled off his coveralls and dropped them off at the laundry on his way back to the elevators.
Girls must have quit already. He noted that the security systems had been activated, and the building was locked down for the night. Didn’t realize it was that l
ate.
Of course it was still Time-Out, so he ordered a pizza on his way up to his apartment, scheduling the drone delivery to give himself time for a shower.
“Well, well…Tuesday morning, and you’re here as scheduled, Mr. Samson,” Lisa said. “I would have bet against that when word came out Saturday night that the DA’s office had identified a person of interest in the Rose Yi case. I figured the only question was whether the law or the Samboks would get you first.”
“Didn’t go home,” Samson muttered. “Figured you called them the moment I left here. You had my money…might as well let them have me, save you the trouble.”
“We hold ourselves to a higher standard than that,” she told him. “Once we have a contract, we deliver what we promise. If they had gotten you, it wouldn’t be through any information they got from us. In fact, once you signed with us, LifeEnders wouldn’t touch you either—unless you failed to show up this morning.
“I need your Universal ID. Then I need you to imprint this one more time.” She shoved the contract across the desk toward him. “Last chance to change your mind.”
He drew a deep breath, handed her the ID, then licked his finger and pressed it on the indicated square. She pulled the contract back and verified the imprint was good.
She noticed that his eyes were on the top of her desk—specifically the little access panel from which she had retrieved the gun last time. He failed to notice when she pulled out the right-hand desk drawer—which also served as the compartment underneath the panel.
“I still have a couple million in ready funds,” he said. “If you’re ready to talk about that other arrangement…”
His comment cut off abruptly as she raised the Glock and shot him three times in the chest, slamming him back in the chair. He clutched at the spreading bloodstain on the front of his shirt and made strangling noises for almost five seconds before he finally went limp, slumping to the side over the chair arm.
The Dragons of Styx Page 10