“Void wyrms,” said Seamus, licking the tip of his pencil and then writing something down. “From what I gathered on my last trip, there seems to be excessive void wyrm activity in San Francisco around that time.”
The void wyrms were the creatures that lived between worlds, in the black, empty place where nothing existed. They were serpentlike things, gigantic and terrifying.
“Did they cause the earthquake? Or are they a symptom?” Elliot asked.
“Hard to say,” said Seamus. “Which is why I need more information. But take Neil with you. He’s immune to the monsters.”
Void wyrms were attracted to the holes between worlds. Any type of hole would do, from the time rips that the time machines created to the randomly occurring natural tears through which people could accidentally step. They even liked the Doors created by people like Elliot’s cousin, Astrid. When the void wyrms appeared, they had a way of pulling a person toward them. Neil was the only one of them immune to this effect.
“I exchanged a lot of gold for money when Felicia and I went on our trip. There’s still plenty left.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of money. Elliot thumbed through it.
“This is a lot, especially in that time.”
“I suppose.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes,” the Professor hesitated with one finger raised, and then turned back to his desk. “No. Never mind.”
Elliot knew why he would not speak his thoughts. Occasionally, they had to keep knowledge from each other to keep from creating time loops with information.
“If it’s about Yukiko, I already know she’ll be there. When we first met, she recognized me. I know she lived in San Francisco back then.”
“There’s that, I suppose. Yes.”
Elliot waited, knowing that there was more.
“It’s just the time loops. You know you’ll meet Yukiko because she told you that she’d met you already. All of our friendships, even my marriage, are the results of time loops. We try to restabilize things, but we’ll never manage it. It’s not a paradox, not precisely, but it is a problem.”
“We’re not old men yet, Seamus. We’ll figure it out and fix it.”
“That’s just it. I’m not sure we will.”
“Time?” asked Elliot.
Neil checked the machine. “Looks like we got it. April 1906. We have until five in the morning on the eighteenth.”
“Plenty of time, then?”
“Unknown. Let’s find a clock and a newspaper and verify the date.”
It was nighttime in San Francisco, and before dawn on April 18, the city would experience an earthquake and resulting fires that would devastate it. But for now, the city was beautiful, the air was cool and moist and without bright electric city lights, the sky was full of stars. Though most of the city was asleep, a few people walked along the streets or rode in carriages, completely unaware that two men from another century moved among them.
“How’s the eye implant working?” asked Neil as he closed up the trunk that held the time machine and straightened his hat. They walked down the street, headed east along Pacific Street, Neil pulling the wheeled trunk that contained the time machine.
Elliot tested the ocular camera, taking a few photographs of the buildings nearby. Julius would want them for research. Of course, they would all be digital, in color, and in a resolution so high that no picture could possibly come from a camera of this era. They would have to be for Julius’s own archival purposes, not for any general use.
Neil asked the time from a passerby and reset his watch. Elliot did the same with his implant. It was 3:32 a.m. They headed south for a few blocks and found themselves in front of the Hall of Justice at Portsmouth Square.
“We’re close,” said Neil. “Seamus said to take readings as close to the center of the Barbary Coast as possible.”
“Ah, two young men visiting the red light district of San Francisco. A grand adventure.”
“I’m not so young,” said Neil. “And I’m married.”
“And I’m kidding.”
It wasn’t that Elliot didn’t appreciate a fine-looking woman, but he knew better than to think that the ladies of this area were here because they enjoyed the trade. On the whole, he adored his job. The smells, the food, the music, the people and the technology all were a delight to him. But he also knew desperation and suffering when he saw it, however smiling and brightly colored it might be.
“We need to find Yukiko,” said Elliot. “She’s here somewhere.”
“There’s not much time. Less than two hours,” said Neil.
“I owe Yukiko a favor,” said Elliot.
“Because she helped get you out of the Library?”
“She helped me then to return the favor I’m about to do for her tonight.”
“And what favor is that?” asked Neil.
“I have no idea. We should find her and ask.”
“She won’t know who you are.”
“Nope. I’d better make a good impression.” He pulled his coat straight, knocked a bit of lint off his hat and grinned at Neil. His partner kept walking.
They headed east, toward the bay, past closed fish stalls and cheap clothiers and shuttered bakeries and grocers. Then came the music and low din of talk and music from the concert saloons, dance halls, opium dens and parlor houses. A pair of prostitutes called out to them, and they passed by before Elliot turned back.
“Actually, you might be able to help me,” he said to them. “I’m looking for a Japanese woman, a particular one. Her name is Yukiko and she’d be about twenty.”
He didn’t say that he had no idea how old she actually was. Even now, at over a century old, she looked like she was in her early twenties. As a Kitsune, a Japanese fox spirit, she would not age further.
“Lots of Chinese girls here,” the woman said, tipping her head to the brothel behind her.
“She’s Japanese. And I’m not looking for an evening with her. She’s my friend. Yukiko Sato.”
He didn’t know if she’d be using that last name in this time, but it was all he had to go on.
Both women said they didn’t know her.
“You look sweet, though,” said the shorter of the two. “You can always look for her tomorrow, right?” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Is your friend shy?” the other woman said, winking a heavily made-up eye at Neil who shoved his hands into the pockets of his duster.
“You’re both very pretty,” said Elliot, “and I’m sure if we weren’t in a hurry we could stop for a pleasant night. But we are in a terrible rush.”
The woman sighed and looked up and down the street, searching for better prospects.
“I’ll give you five dollars,” said Elliot softly, knowing it was a huge amount of money. “Just tell me a few of the places where Japanese women might go. Not Chinese, though she might be there too.” He pulled out a five-dollar bill and the woman unfolded it, examining it.
Then she looked him up and down, as if that might give her a clue to the bill’s authenticity.
“I suppose it depends,” she said. “If your friend is new off the boat and doesn’t have any money, I’d check the cribs. There’s one on Clay Street that’s taking new girls.”
“What if she spoke perfect English and she was pretty? Good skin, perfect teeth.”
“Well, it’s possible she’d be in one of the better parlor houses. Can she dance?”
Of course. How had he forgotten? When he first saw her, Yukiko had been dancing at the Luna Park boardwalk for a stage show. She had been able to draw power from the willing audience. Oh my, how willing he had been. She had looked like a vision, a beautiful dream, dancing with the sea wind in her hair.
“Yes, she can da
nce. Very well, in fact. She might be in a cabaret or dance hall.”
“Elliot,” said Neil.
Elliot held up a finger to his partner.
“Which ones are around here?” he asked the woman.
She got a thoughtful look and bit her lower lip. She and the other prostitute spoke for a few moments about the various locales where a dancer might work.
“There’s a fire,” said Neil quietly.
“Where?” Elliot moved up close to Neil, but didn’t question his word. “Nothing is supposed to burn until after the earthquake.”
“Not sure. The smell of smoke is faint. But there’s also yelling. I hear both women and men. It’s that way.”
“We got three places,” said the woman. “The first one—”
“Is it that way?” said Elliot, pointing in the direction of the fire.
“There’s one there too.”
“We have to go,” said Elliot. “Here.” He dug another five-dollar bill out to give to the other woman. “Stay outside between five and five thirty in the morning. Don’t go inside. Something bad is going to happen, an earthquake. Just try to stay safe.”
He could tell by their looks that the women didn’t believe him. He wasn’t surprised. He sounded like a lunatic.
“We’re scientists,” he said. “The machine in that trunk measures tectonic tension and an earthquake is eminent. Just stay outside. It’s coming a little after five. Oh, and the whole city is going to burn.”
Neil was already partway down the street, dragging the time machine, and Elliot ran to catch up. His partner didn’t speak of Elliot’s breach of Time Corps rules. Technically, he shouldn’t be warning people about disasters or giving them large amounts of money. One of those women might have been destined to die. Anything could happen, and the more interference they engaged in, the more chance they had of creating an unstable time loop.
They could meet and help Yukiko tonight because Elliot knew that he already had done so. Of course, that too was a time loop. He never would have sought her out if she hadn’t already recognized him in the future.
The cabaret was called the Pearl of the Pacific, and flames lit the windows from within, giving it an eerie orange glow. Two fire trucks stood outside with men rushing to put out the flames. Yukiko stood across the street in a form-fitting red and gold dance costume. Her face and arms were soot-smudged and her hair was mostly out of its pins. Two policemen were speaking with her. So was another man. Elliot knew him at once. This was Santiago, the Coyote, friend of Julius and a generally tricky bastard. Elliot and Neil approached them.
“You are a filthy, lying mongrel!” Yukiko shouted at Santiago. “You lie to them.”
Santiago crossed his arms, his expression full of pity and concern. “I told them what I saw.”
“You know I didn’t do it. Why would I burn the place down with myself inside?”
“He says you were angry with your employer,” said the policeman. “That you had an argument.”
Yukiko gave Santiago a look of hatred, but Elliot knew her well enough to see the hurt beneath it. The young Kitsune had trusted the Coyote and had been betrayed. The police turned to one another, consulting.
”I’ve been looking for you. I am a friend of Inari,” said Elliot to Yukiko.
The name hung in the air between them, the name of the god she served, the one from her home in Japan.
Her face froze and then her eyes widened in happiness. Elliot thought she might hug him or burst into joyful tears. It tore his heart to see her so lonely, so desperate, that any word from home would have this effect on her.
She had never told Elliot the story of her life, but he knew she had come to California unwillingly, as a bride, and that she had suffered being so far from home.
“May I speak with her for a moment?” he asked the policemen.
“Don’t go anywhere,” said one, who then turned to Santiago.
“You’re from back home?” she said, and he could tell she was smelling him. Only someone watching for the long inhalation through her nose would notice. “You’re not Kitsune,” she said.
“No, I’m not. But I might be able to help you.”
“My word won’t hold up against his,” she said, jerking her head toward Santiago. “I’m just a Chinaman and a whore to them.”
“I know Santiago and I know he’s often a liar. Now, tell me what happened.”
Neil stood near the policemen, listening in unobtrusively, as was his specialty. Yukiko stole at glance at him before turning back to Elliot.
“You know Inari?”
“There’s not much time. They look like they believe Santiago.”
“I suppose they do. There was a wager. The owner of the cabaret is a foul man, but I needed work. I’m a dancer, not a doxy. Well, he and Santiago made a bargain. If Santiago won, he would take ownership of the cabaret. If he lost, Santiago promised he could bring back the owner’s wife, who left him six months ago. Santiago promised that if I helped him and he won, he’d let me be the bookkeeper and administrator for the cabaret. It’s better than dancing, and he has no head for honest business. He’s no good with numbers and running anything in an orderly fashion. I’d be good at it, and he’d get more customers to patronize the show. Naturally, I wanted him to win.”
“What was the wager, exactly?”
“It was a contest for who could get the most money in the door one week versus the next week.”
“And you helped Santiago by charming the customers?”
“Yes.”
They both knew what he meant. She could create illusions and induce a near-hypnotic state. Men would pay over and over to see her and she would draw energy from them. It wouldn’t hurt the men. No, Elliot had experienced it himself, and it was pleasurable. It hurt the heart a little, but in a good way, like a small painful longing that couldn’t be fulfilled. But the feeling didn’t last, and it did no real damage.
“When Santiago won the wager,” said Yukiko, “the owner refused to transfer ownership of the place. He said it wasn’t legal, that nothing was in writing, so he wasn’t obligated to do a thing. Santiago threatened to burn the place down.”
“And then he did?”
“I don’t know. I only know it wasn’t me. I was in my room and smelled smoke. I helped as many of the girls as I could.”
He saw the cuts on her hands, the black on her knees. Young as she was, she upheld the Kitsune code to aid humankind in distress.
“Now Santiago is trying to make it out like I knocked over a lamp or some such nonsense.”
“Why would they believe that? Anyone could have started the fire.”
“Because I smelled the smoke first. I screamed for everyone to get out, and it was a minute or two before the humans—the other people—smelled the smoke and started to leave. The ones who didn’t dance tonight and who have rooms upstairs were already asleep.”
“That doesn’t seem like enough evidence for the police to think you were guilty.”
“It’s not. But the owner survived and talked to the police as well. The three of us are the only ones who know about the wager, and since Santiago won, the owner wouldn’t mind getting rid of me. The wager would never hold up among humans, but he knows Santiago is something not human, and he’s afraid. He also knows I helped Santiago, but he doesn’t know how.”
“Do you think Santiago burned it?”
“I do. But I can’t prove anything.”
“Can you use your magic to get away? Change your appearance?”
“How do you know about me? Did my family send you? Can I go home yet?”
Her face was so hopeful, so sweet, that Elliot wanted to say yes. But he also knew that her hard years in America would make her into the person she would become.
A police officer approached. “We’re going to take you to the station,” he said to Yukiko.
“I didn’t do anything!” cried Yukiko. “Santiago, tell them!”
“There’s no proof, officers,” said Santiago. “It could have been anyone. I was only speculating.”
“Well, the owner did some speculating too,” said the officer. “We’ll sort it all out at the station.”
They put Yukiko in a wagon, and though Elliot saw the tears standing in her eyes, she did not cry or beg. She sat ramrod straight, chin high, like a small queen in her blackened dancer’s costume.
“We don’t have time for both,” said Neil from behind him. Elliot had not heard his partner approach, but he never did.
Elliot checked the clock implant in his eye. “Half an hour,” he said.
Neil said, “We can split up. I’ll deal with the void wyrms, and you get Yukiko out. If they lock her up when the quake hits, she could be trapped and burned.”
“You shouldn’t go alone.”
“And we can’t leave Yukiko,” said Neil. “Look, there were never any reports of wyrms or things like them in the witness reports after the quake, even though Seamus detected wyrm activity. That means we dealt with them. And since I don’t get pulled toward them the way the rest of you do, I ought to be the one to use the machine to close their rips. I can do it alone.”
Elliot couldn’t disagree with that logic, and they made a plan to meet up back at Portsmouth Square after the earthquake. By the time Elliot reached the police station, there were only fifteen minutes remaining.
“She’s my employee,” he explained to the exhausted man on duty. “She dances on the side, but she’s my housekeeper. I need to take her home.”
“The sergeant will be in at eight in the morning, sir, as will everyone else. You have to wait until then. Also, the woman still needs to be questioned.”
He argued with the man, coerced, explained, vaguely threatened and tried to bribe him. He nearly got thrown into a cell himself.
The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series) Page 119