Dual Heritage: A FireWall Story

by Mark Johnson

  “If it’s the Royals,” she said, “there’s no way of knowing if they’re the good ones.”

  “The only thing we can do is wait,” he said.

  Reeta nodded, then bent to pick a loose-leaf folder out of her satchel. “Well, you’ve not been the only one inspecting, hon.”

  “Accounts and records? I’m not one of your students, Ree. If I don’t like what you’re teaching, I can just change the subject.”

  “You won’t change the subject if I tell you I’ve got the records from the building Repaan Lethrien’s family died in.”

  Tummil waved his hand for her to go on.

  “Pelina told you her mother said the survivors are the opposite of infected. The opposites of whatever killed the powerheads, the art dealer and the pinned-down cadver. If the wave transmitters can send chaos energy to demons, then are your survivors able to send energy to each other?”

  “That’s a bit of a reach, Ree.”

  “I checked the building records, they’re public. Look here. Thirteen years ago, right at the time that pendant around your neck was in the house the five Lethrien family members died in, the Royal weather barometers atop his building all needed replacing. It wasn’t a whole neighborhood replacement, but just at his building and a few nearby.”

  “All right, that’s interesting.”

  “A few years later, the pipes needed replacing on the upper levels, and a bunch of fireplace hearths cracked near his family’s level. They’d given out years ahead of schedule.”

  “All right.”

  “And last but not least. Tree migrations. Arborists noted that the trees moved closer to the building for a year, during their migrations. As if they thought there was something there that they could get nourishment from.”

  She closed the folder. “How much more proof do you need, to know that particular boy produced an energy burst that killed his family and wrecked his building’s infrastructure? Just like the demons being awoken with wave transmitters?

  “The boy’s uncle told you the boy was convinced he’d killed his family. The boy didn’t just have survivor’s guilt, Fen. He was guilty.” She raised a forefinger. “I mean, maybe he didn’t do it deliberately, but he knew what he’d done.”

  “That’s… wow. Well done. Um, thank you.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “What do we do with this? Who do we tell? Someone needs to know, and that person is probably a Seeker. But how do I approach one in good faith? And ask them to do what with this information?”

  Tummil looked up as the waiter approached, ready to tell him they weren’t interested in more food. But it wasn’t the waiter.

  The blond man, younger than Tummil, pulled a third chair from another table and sat at their table, crossing his legs as comfortably as if he’d been with them for the past hour.

  “The Seekers won’t be of much help finding any answers, regarding the Lethrien family’s deaths,” the man said in a rich, cultured accent. Not an accent foreign to Armer, but like none he’d ever heard. “We can’t tell you much about their boy, either.”

  12

  “Won’t you please take a seat,” Reeta said, calmly.

  “Very kind,” said the man.

  Tummil stared blankly. What was he supposed to say when meeting a Royal for the first time?

  The man gestured to him. “Sergeant Fenden Tummil. You came to our attention some months ago, due to your obsession with Terese Saarg, and how you kept returning, twice a week, to the house where those Sumadan researchers were killed. We wondered what you were thinking, at first, until we found what you were researching at the library: the demons of the Founders’ War.

  “Sergeant, you’re a dull grunt. You’re not the type to obsess over ancient history. Which means, someone has made contact and told you that demons performed the massacres at the underground chamber and the manor in the Fooram district, not a dark golem.”

  Gods Above, he had to keep Pelina out of this! He couldn’t let a Royal know she had the dreaming!

  “Who was it?” the Royal asked pleasantly.

  Tummil’s heart thumped fast. “I was at one of the Cenephan-themed groves. I was approached by a priest from the old land, who—”

  The Royal groaned loudly. His shoulders slumped. “Strong Cenephan accent, profound classical knowledge, long hair and calls himself a wanderer?” It wasn’t a question.

  Tummil gave a baffled nod.

  The man looked around the diner as though the three of them were being watched and spread his arms as if to say, ‘There, you see?’

  Tummil looked around. There wasn’t any person or object that looked capable of watching them. “Who was he?”

  The Royal cracked his knuckles. “He, or ‘it’, has his own agenda. He turns projects and plans on their heads. Other times, it turns out he’s had other plans in motion for a hundred years that we never knew about until they arrive, fully formed and unavoidable.”

  This man oozed a sophistication Tummil had never witnessed. It was a challenge to not shift on his seat. “Who are you?” was the only question Tummil could think to ask, his mind running away with his heartbeat.

  “I am the man who probably won’t be wiping your minds. Tell no one we met. I’m being watched too closely and I can’t use the Seekers.”

  “They say you Royals fight one another so hard that you forget we’re out here,” said Tummil.

  The Royal raised an eyebrow. “They have a point. This ‘fighting’, as you call it? You and Terese Saarg met one another because one of those ‘fights’ escaped the Center.”

  “You mean the underground research lab? No, the demon came from Polis Sumad. Not the Armen Center!”

  The Royal snorted. “Boy, you think the world is so simple, that something massive as the Immersion Chamber took shape without anyone knowing?”

  “I…” Tummil hadn’t thought the Royals were directly involved. Fooled into it, quite possibly, but willing participants?

  No, he wouldn’t play this man’s game. “I tried getting your attention for a reason. There are three demons loose in Armer, and somehow the chaos detectors haven’t picked them up. Do you have a solution, or are you just here to pose?”

  The Royal’s smile never faltered. “I know who allowed the Immersion Chamber into Polis Armer. I can’t move against them. Neither will they permit us to hunt demons outside the Center for the first time in five thousand years, because they might be exposed if we found one.”

  The Royal pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from his satchel. “This is a tracker. It’s meant for Seekers, and I have no choice but to give it to two mundane conspiracy theorists.”

  Tummil unwrapped the bundle. It was a smooth, metal cylinder with a point at one end. He tested its weight in his hands. “It isn’t a theory if you have proof of the conspiracy. And how do we know this isn’t going to explode on us?”

  The Royal snorted. “If I wanted you dead, we’d have come right to your apartment. It’s a tracker, boy. We’ll send something to you, to kill the demon. It’s not for you to destroy the demons.”

  The Royal leaned over and tapped the tracker. “It’s active right now. That means we will consider you active if you are out of doors after sunset, with the tracker. Hold the button on the top for over a minute. That’ll tell us you’ve found something and… it will come.”

  “What will come?”

  “The being that will destroy the demon. What, you think you can take it with that ridiculous machete?”

  Tummil looked up. “Three demons might be too much to take on, whatever you’re sending.”

  The Royal rolled his eyes. “Idiot, did you not read the books you borrowed? Demons don’t work together. They don’t like to cooperate. Even the infiltrators that look human. They don’t trust. They work alone. That’s their strength and weakness.”

  Reeta’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “Why should we do it? What’s in it for us?”

  The Royal didn’t hesitate. “You both live live
s of service. You won’t be able to sleep, knowing you could hold the key to prevent Polis Armer dying like Polis Ceneph. I don’t have to offer either of you a damn thing, and you’ll do it anyhow. It’s in your genes.”

  Tummil exhaled. He’d been prepared to throw the tracker back at the Royal and storm off. But every word had rung true. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.

  The Royal pushed his chair back and stretched. “Oh, keep it in a metal box. Someone might find what we’re doing and I might need to destroy it remotely.”

  “I thought you said it wouldn’t explode?” said Reeta.

  “I said it was a tracker. I wish I could say it had been wonderful to meet you, but you’re as dull as the reports I commissioned on you.” The Royal strolled from the diner without looking back.

  Neither spoke.

  Reeta sipped at her empty glass.

  Tummil still stared at the bundle. “He didn’t mention how we’re supposed to find three five-thousand-year-old demons.”

  13

  “Just to clarify, you got thirty ten-year-olds to search for three five-thousand-year-old demons?” Tummil said.

  “No,” Reeta said. “I had thirty ten-year-olds find the three five-thousand-year-old demons’ hunting grounds.”

  “Ah, well, that’s much better.”

  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, then drive you to despair.”

  “You might just do both.”

  She opened the first folder of the three on the dining table. “I told you we were doing a newspaper study. I told them we’d look out for unusual and gruesome stories in particular. They loved it!”

  “I bet they did.”

  “Greta’s father works somewhere with a bunch of papers on sale in the lobby. He bought us a whole bunch over the month, and I divided the kids up into particular newspapers.”

  “Hey, look, what? You had them reading the Daily Delve?”

  “I had them doing other things as well, like tallying the number of times a paper reported what another paper had reported, or did a follow-up story. And I had them lock the unusual events in geographic areas over time. Then I worked out some conclusions on my own.”

  She pulled out a separate map. He recognized her handwriting. “Here. The demons don’t intrude on one another’s territory. Like the Royal said, it looks like each one knows the others exist, but they don’t interact. They even leave a buffer between their zones. Like a safe area.”

  Another section of the map caught Tummil’s eye. “There, this is our district, right? In the middle of the yellow area.”

  She nodded. “We’re in the largest zone. I call it the ‘cat and bat’ zone, because of the animals turning up with their blood drained and marrow sucked out. The red zone has strange tree migrations and the green zone has an uptick in food rotting on the vine.”

  He scratched at his chin. “So the yellow zone demon will be the easiest to find, to start with.”

  “Yes. Plus, the cats and bats get eaten at night. So, we know when you’ll find that particular demon.”

  “Wait,” he said. “During the War, nothing preyed on cats and bats specifically. Why isn’t… Catkiller going for dogs and cattle?”

  “Because cats and bats are night creatures?”

  “But not one dog from a backyard, or an ox from a paddock? Any fish?”

  Reeta shrugged. “The carcasses in the yellow zone were dumped in public places and streets, but not taken from public places. So, if you want to find it, wait for it to dump a carcass in an empty public space, then point the tracker and come home.”

  Tummil hunched over the table, tapping the map. “I looked up more about what the Royal said about them hiding in plain sight. Some demons were infiltrators, who hid among groups of humans. They’re strongest at night, like Catkiller.

  “Now, Darkness creatures can’t handle being near energies that aren’t evil. Meaning, they’ll find public places far from the local chaos detectors.”

  Reeta raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re wanting permission from me, to go to pubs at night, alone?”

  14

  The waitress brought Tummil and Reeta their mulled wines. They waited politely until she departed their booth.

  “But it’s been two whole months!” Reeta gripped the table’s edge so hard her knuckles turned white. “Cats and bats are still turning up dead. We can’t take this to the Seekers with no evidence, and we know more about the carcasses turning up than anyone else in this Polis, but we still can’t find Catkiller’s pattern.”

  Tummil couldn’t take his gaze from Reeta’s white knuckles. “There’s got to be something we’re not seeing.”

  “School’s starting next week and I can’t be out every night like this. And I’m not letting you out alone. Not happening.”

  He lifted his eyes. She didn’t look angry, just resigned. “But that gives us one week, babe. Just one more week and maybe—”

  His seat vibrated. A movement to his left. He looked over. “Oh for the love of the Gods, Clem, not now!”

  Clem’s blue eyes glowed with excitement. “Oh, but this is very good information, Champ!” He glanced over at Reeta. “Evening, Paper Doll!”

  Clem didn’t like calling them by their real names. “A little bird told me about a few bats being found over by the old smokestacks at Millrange. But you know what’s interesting? They were found arranged in a—”

  A boy of around twenty stepped up to the booth and nudged Clem. “Oi, old fella!” The boy wore a patchy attempt at a fashionable beard. He leered at Reeta appreciatively.

  “What about the bats, Clem?” Reeta growled.

  “Clem’s face lit up. “Yes, Paper Doll, just you wait now. Yes.” He dived into his pack, pulling out loose papers and handing them to the boy. The boy squinted, shuffling the papers back and forth, then grunted. He dropped some coins in Clem’s palm and strutted away to rejoin his friends.

  “Well, that’s enough coin for a meal or two and an upstairs mattress,” Clem said, scratching his hairy cheek. “I love lazy university students. You know, I think they—”

  Reeta closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. “Clem, what about the bats?”

  Clem frowned. “Hm? Oh, I’m not sure. Never mind. Not important. Anyhow, it’s like the two of you said. The number of cadver covens swarming through here are far down. Now, no one’s made the connection between the fewer cadvers and your demon scaring them off, but—”

  Tummil inhaled sharply. “Clem, we’ve not said anything about demons. What makes you think that?”

  Clem frowned, then grinned. “Ah, yes! That reminds me! I’ve got a message for you.” He dove back into his pack.

  Reeta met Tummil’s eyes from across the table. She mouthed the words, Do we run?

  He held up a palm. Just wait and see.

  Clem threw a pink envelope on the table. In neat lettering, it read, ‘To Mr. Tummil’.

  “A girl came by my corner of the park with her grandmother the other day and gave me a letter. Grandma seemed to think it was some sort of charity thing for school. Inside, was this!”

  Tummil’s eyes flicked up to Clem. “It’s from Pelina Saarg, and it’s been opened.”

  Clem beamed. “I took the liberty of examining the contents for you. You’re welcome.”

  Tummil read the letter out loud.

  * * *

  Mr. Tummil,

  If the homeless man who cheats for university students has given you this, you’re being watched. A Royal or a demon knows you’re looking for them. Whatever you do, don’t go home. They’ll break in and kill you. I don’t know what you need to do but look for the old man. He’s the only one who can help.

  * * *

  “Now here’s a philosophical conundrum,” said Clem, pulling out his pipe and tobacco pouch. “If I hadn’t given you this letter, would your lives be in danger to begin with? Or would I be guilty of manslaughter by not giving it to you? I’d say—”

  Reeta’s face had turned white. “She cou
ld mean the demon or the Royals, by that. Looks like she doesn’t know. That ‘person’ we met. What if the group he was scared of learned what he was doing and put a hit out on us? Look, we live near a chaos detector and we should be safe from demons there. Pelina has to mean a Royal!” She peeked out of the booth. “There’s about twenty people in here. Maybe one of them?”

  “There’s more,” Tummil said.

  * * *

  They’re confused. The rules have changed and they don’t know what’s happening. But we’re playing by old rules too. You have to figure out the new rules, Mr. Tummil. I hope you live because if you do, your wedding will be really pretty.

  * * *

  Yours sincerely,

  Pelina Saarg.

  * * *

  “Congratulations, children!” said Clem. “When were you planning on—”

  “Does she mean we can’t go home at all, or only after sunrise?” said Reeta. “If it demons, they can’t track us after sunrise because they’ll be in hiding. Maybe she doesn’t know.”

  Tummil rose, motioning to Reeta. “There’s an overnight shelter on our route home. If the demon doesn’t want to advertise its presence, there’s safety in numbers. We can figure something out after sunrise.”

  Clem rose with them. “Wonderful. Which shelter are we going to?”

  Tummil drew himself up. “We need you to keep an eye on the pub, Clem. Tell us if anyone new comes in.”

  Clem’s back stiffened and he saluted. “Aye, Sergeant!” He barked far too loudly.

  Tunmmil groaned as the door shut behind them.

  15

  Electric glowbulbs illuminated the external walkway, leading past shops and offices. Beyond the walkway, the darkness was absolute. The Armer council’s theory was that the less thorough the lighting, the less likely pedestrians were to leave the walkways and encounter cadvers.