Leviathan

by Erik Schubach

  I growled when he was about to start talking, and said as I watched the system's ready lights start to flicker, “Just a second. Mother is hacking me.” I physically powered down my armored uniform and smirked at it as I said to the air, “Hack that you, you mothering AI. I can handle myself.”

  This got the man to snort and clap a hand on my shoulder. “Ok, you... I like. So have a seat and tell me what kind of information you're looking for.”

  He set the harmonica down on a table filled with relics from another time beside the other chair he sat in. I said, “I'm currently investigating a series of murders on the world, illegal organ harvesting, and...”

  He held a hand up, looking almost angry. “That isn't the sort of thing we deal in down here. You can go space yourself if you...”

  I stopped him with a look. “We don't think you had anything to do with it. I just found an item at the last crime scene that looks like some sort of antique surgical implement that we hoped you might be able to identify and possibly point me at anyone on the world who might still use that sort of thing.”

  He relaxed then said, “Well let's have a look then.”

  I blinked at him then snorted and said, “Mab preserve us all. Just a second, I have the scans on my suit's storage. Mother is going to kill me.”

  The man chuckled. “That's what happens when you become too dependent on magic or technology. Power her up.”

  The suit powered back up and Mother's voice filled my ears, she was still off on a rant, hadn't her subroutines shown I had logged out?

  I tried to get a word in, and it took Mac leaning in toward me and saying, “Hello, Mother,” to get her to stop.

  She hacked my public address speaker and started saying clinically and robotically, “Mac, master of the Underhill, hull number AJAX-43. Suspected in multiple stolen property complaints, no outstanding warrants. Three stints in ore extraction for various charges ranging from...”

  He said, “Good to hear your voice again too, you overrated tin can.”

  I stepped in before their verbal sparring went on into the night. “Mother, please. Let me do my job.”

  Did she harrumph? And why did Mac look so self-satisfied as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head? He had tried to get a rise out of her, hadn't he?

  I tapped on my wrist console and pulled up the scans of the implement. I looked around and saw holo-projectors at the ceiling so I accessed them and the item materialized in the air in front of him. He reached up and my eyes widened when he took it between his fingers to examine it.

  He had coherent photon projectors in this floating junk heap? That was A or B-Ring tech for the rich. He looped a finger and all my scan data appeared beside his hand, scrolling along as he nodded appreciatively.

  With surety, he said, “It's a manual scalpel. This is real old school. No photonic laser blades. No incision-less sonic subdural features. Some of the old back alley clinics still use these types of tools.”

  I opened my mouth to ask for a list but he was already shaking his head at me. “But you won't find the owner of it down here, or in any of the lower rings.”

  Before I could ask why, he pointed at the data stream and said, “See here, this is silver, not stainless steel. This is Fae.”

  Ok, that was a leap, yes the Fae wouldn't be able to touch stainless steel without gloves or they would burn their fingers, but just because it was silver didn't mean...

  He made a stretching motion with two fingers and the projection grew multiple times its actual size and he pointed at a fine carving at the base of the handle. It was an intricate spellwork circle with finely etched runes around it and a symbol in the middle I recognized from somewhere. It was such fine craftsmanship and micro-etched with magic, as the measurements of the circle were displayed, I realized it would look like a simple dot to the naked eye.

  I sighed, he was right, it was Fae in origin, and I bet if I looked up the spells, they would give the implement the same properties as our modern laser scalpels. This was three pieces of evidence pointing the one place I dared not follow. I pointed. “That symbol looks familiar.”

  He nodded and shut down the projection. “It should, it is a family crest.” He shook his head when he saw the question forming on my lips and Mac said as he stood, “I'm sorry Knith, that's all I can say. I probably just put a target on myself. I suggest you don't dig any farther.”

  He hesitated and looked at me, then the table and he handed me the harmonica. “A month's rations is too much for the trouble I just heaped on you. Heed my advice? Let this drop.” The man was nervous about something.

  He stood at the door and put on a smile as I looked at the harmonica, then slipped it into a pouch and moved to the door as Graz landed on my shoulder, uncharacteristically silent. Mac said, “You never know when a little music might save your life. Come back to the Underhill anytime if you want trinkets, or your fortune told. We've men in the brothel too, even a lesser Fae Lord who likes to slum it down here for his sexual kicks with other races.”

  That caused me to arch an eyebrow in surprise, a Fae Lord in a brothel? While the Fae Lords were almost painful to look at because they were so pretty, I shook my head and said plainly, “Not my cup of tea.”

  It was his turn to cock an eyebrow and smile appreciatively. “I'll call if they ever get a Fae Lady down there then. It was nice meeting you, Knith Shade.”

  He sounded almost sad like something might befall me. I just nodded and said, “Thank you for your help, Mac. It was a pleasure.” His eye twitched at that. Then as I walked off I said loud enough for him to hear, “Mother, please quantum encrypt my interactions here in Underhill to my bio-signature and pass key only.”

  She said with a sigh, “Of course, Knith. I'd heed his words though. I know you and how stubborn and headstrong you can be, but if you pursue this line of questioning, it can be...”

  “Whose family crest was that, Mother?”

  “Knith...”

  “Whose?”

  Graz whispered, “House Ashryver.”

  I startled a nearby woman who smelled like a wildcat shifter with my sharp intake of breath. House Ashryver? But that was Queen Mab's house... There were thousands in her line, but still, that someone in her house was capable doing these abominable things?

  I whispered to myself, “I need to go home and think.”

  As I passed the fortune teller's cabin, she stood in her open door, and called after me, “Beware the sins of the father, Knith of the Enforcer Brigade.” She knew who I was? I was almost running by the time I hit the airlock.

  Graz whistled low as she shook her head at my predicament while I whispered, “Fuck me sideways and space me naked,” as I cycled the door to get back onto the world. We emerged back outside a few minutes later, just as the Day Lights extinguished for nighttime, and the nebula and stars now glowed brightly through the translucent sky glass of the ring past the Trunk.

  Chapter 5 – Here I Go Again

  It was a long and restless night. I spent a couple hours reviewing evidence from the prior crime scenes to see if something was missed, and if they aligned with my growing theory. Brass was going to be all up in my case the moment I logged my preliminary case file highlighting what I had learned so far.

  I was surprised that Mother hadn't already alerted them to my line of thinking. I was grateful because I knew they would take the case from me and move it up the food chain where it would be quashed for fear of repercussions for our ring if I dared imply any Greater Fae was involved, let alone someone from Queen Mab's own house.

  What was I thinking? This could get me reassigned to a D-Ring, or worse... Trunk or Heart patrol. I harrumphed at myself because I knew I couldn't let this go. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the faces of the victims, and if I could find some closure to them or their families, that was what I was going to do.

  At least poor Mr. Katan didn't have any next of kin to grieve over his loss. I res
earched Woodlings and found they were a magical race not connected to the Fae or Fairy. They had the natural ability to collect and store magic inside of them to use at a future time, predominantly for mating, which they did every few hundred years. They were pretty much loners besides that, which was why he was one of only three Woodlings living in our ring and there were only two dozen total on the World.

  Mother had already locked down Katan's house and offices here in Irontown by law, and petitioned Judge Greenleaf for a warrant to search the locations before I had even visited the Underhill. The big shaggy Woodling was, of all things, an interior decorator for the richer families of our C-Ring and even some clients up-ring, and was pretty well off himself. I'd have to get to his house by the lake farther up the ring to check it out for anything that may show why he was targeted, other than his ability to pull in and hold magic.

  Hmm... I'd have to research the other victims to see if they had any special abilities. But for now, I had woken up a couple hours before Day Lights so headed down from my quarters on the upper level of the barracks, to work out in the gym and think.

  I was just in my shorts, tank top and workout shoes, as I decided on a run along the suspended track that circled the gym. I looped a coms earpiece over my ear... I know, I know, why not just get a cybernetic com jack installed like ninety percent of the residents on the world? I was actually unmodded and was sort of proud of the fact, even if it was a little inconvenient at times.

  Smiling crookedly I said as I limbered up while a couple more early birds went jogging past, “Mother, cue up something from the anthropological playlist.”

  “You got it, Knith.”

  A song called “Here I Go Again”, by a group who paid homage to Fire Wyrms, Whitesnake, started to play and my feet fell with the beat as they sang, “I don't know where I'm going. But I sure know where I've been.” When the edgy instrumental kicked in at the hook, I broke into a full out sprint, amazed at the depth of the words for something so ancient. It was like they were speaking my truth.

  So I ran, and ran, going over the case in my head. Passing the other runners on the track, some tried to speed up to keep pace with me, but when my heart was pumping like this, and the euphoria of running was driving me, there wasn't an Enforcer that could match my speed, not even the four-legged ones.

  Later, the Maretish brothers spotted me on the heavy bags, swinging them at me at awkward angles, or trying to overpower me with direct strikes from the bags. The big brutes were halflings, half-human, half wood elf, and all muscle. And they always enjoyed trying to knock me down.

  They've been with the Brigade longer than I have, and they used to run me over with exercises like this, but I kept getting back up again. Improving my speed, strength, and tactics year by year. Watching everyone who wasn't human getting promoted over me.

  We did some light sparring to cool down after I spotted them on the weights, not like I'd be much help as they could bench twice what I could.

  When I was in the shower, the windows brightened when the Day Lights turned on for the ring. That was my cue. No more procrastinating, time to get to work.

  I thanked the guys for the workout and headed back up to my quarters to gear up, and walked right into what could only be described as an aerial battle or light-show from one of the many nearby nightclubs.

  Standing there stunned, I saw Graz pushing the books out of the built-in nightstand by my bed and brought my fingers to my lips and whistled shrilly. Three of the five or six glowing Sprites covered their ears and spiraled out of the air to crash spectacularly on the deck plates, another spiraled into a soft explosion of glittery dust in my pillow.

  Graz buzzed up to me. “Mab's tits, Knith! A little warning?”

  I looked at her incredulously and the items, not mine, strewn all over the place, then the mess at the nightstand. “Graz, what the hells is going on here? And why are you in my quarters? How did you even get in here?”

  She shrugged and slapped the back of the head of a male Sprite who buzzed up to ogle me. “Our place now. You owe me.”

  What!? I voiced my thought “What!?”

  Graz shrugged. “We were evicted last night after I left you. Since you stopped me from gathering scrap to sell to pay our rent. We're building our nest in that box thing there beside the bed. You won't even know we're here.”

  I sputtered out, “You mean sell the stuff you were stealing from the world? Get out or I'll drag you in for trespass.”

  She flew up between my eyes and crossed her arms obstinately. “You don't have the balls.”

  I opened my mouth but she reached out and made a zipping motion over my lips then patted my cheek with her little hand as she streaked off to start making a nest in my nightstand. “Besides, don't you have a case that's going to get you fired or worse to work on?”

  Blinking I exhaled loudly. “I don't have time for this. We're going to have words when I get back tonight. Don't get too comfortable.”

  “Hey, your lips are zipped. Family?” The others buzzed up, a male and female on either side of Graz, hugging her in mid-air as the others, I realized were fledglings, hovered behind them. “Family, this is Knith, the Big that treats us like people, our new landlord. Knith, my family.” She pointed at the children and I huffed out in exasperation.

  I grumbled under my breath as I stepped behind my changing screen to get into my uniform and armor, “Low... using children to guilt me.” She looked so smug just hovering there then she started snapping orders and they all scrambled to comply. I remember reading somewhere that the third gender was boss in their trinary sex race because they were so rare.

  I growled when Graz landed on my shoulder as I headed out. She just squeaked, “I've a vested interest in how this case turns out. Besides, I can be useful.”

  Breathe Knith. I didn't have time to argue. And I had to grin when Graz paled when I asked, “Mother, please compile a list of the Greater Fae in Mab's house who have medical expertise.”

  “Knith...”

  “I know Mother, just do it.” Then I smirked and told both of my unwanted passengers, “Time to visit the A-Rings.” I wonder if the mines were nice this time of year in the Heart since that was likely where I was going to end up.

  Mother put up three names on my heads up and I waited for the list to either populate more or to start scrolling. When it didn't I asked, “Mother, where are the rest of the names? Are they not listed in the database?”

  If an AI could shrug, I got the distinct impression from her tone that she did just that as she supplied, “You asked for a list of people in House Ashryver who had medical expertise. These are they. There are eleven others who are listed as lab techs but wouldn't have the anatomical knowledge or surgical training in other races to have performed the organ harvesting.”

  Ok, this is what happens when you aren't specific, Mab's line was extensive, and accounted for a full third of the population of Greater Fae on the Leviathan. “I meant, the entire House Ashryver, not just this Ring or Stack.”

  The Worldship had two forward stacks of four rotating and counter-rotating habitation rings and two matching stacks aft of the Heart. There were three million souls in each stack. Three medical practitioners for even a single ring was ludicrous but you didn't see many Fae Lords outside the A-Rings, and rarely in the B-Rings.

  Mother said, “That is the full list, Knith, there are five registered doctors in all the combined Fae houses, the bulk of them in Mab's line.”

  I chuckled. “Are you doing a diagnostic scan of the core? You're slipping some bits.”

  The smile melted off my face when Graz squeaked out, “It's true.” I blinked at her as she shrugged and said, “The greater Fae don't get sick, and they heal just about any wound in minutes that would kill a member from any other race. They're immortal for all intents and purposes so they don't have any use for doctors.”

  She sounded resentful and when I prompted with a slight rise of my chin sh
e continued, “Us lesser Fae, we're not pure. So there are a few things that can make us sick, and we heal slow, not stupid slow like Human nulls, but nothing like the Greater Fae Lords and Ladies. And we have just a spark of magic.”

  She hissed, “They live in the castles they built in the upper rings and the Sprites and Faeries were released into the farmlands down-ring to nest out in the open like animals. They eat like royalty while we scrape together scraps to sell, and live off of food cards that we only get quarter rations with because we're... small.” She spat out the last word.

  I didn't know what to say to that, and she asked, “Why can't we live in the A-Rings with them? It isn't like we're defective. They even have Pixies and the Fae insects from Old Earth up there, but not us.”

  The only thing I could think to say was, “I'm sorry?” Then added with a sheepish half-smile as I shrugged and asked, “Life sucks, get used to it?”

  She gave the cheesiest of grins back, and sighed now that she got the rant out of her system. She looked much more relaxed now.

  I thought out loud. “So... three. That considerably narrows down the list of...”

  Mother interrupted. “Don't say suspects, Knith.”

  I cocked an eyebrow and said instead, “Persons of interest.”

  Graz asked, “What's the difference?”

  Mother supplied dryly, “There isn't one.” Then asked, “Wait, why is the Sprite with us?”

  I smiled at that. Mother always said things like 'us', like she was walking beside me. Sure she can be overbearing and, heh, mothering at times, but I don't know why the other enforcers find her annoying and wooden.