The Prospects (Short Story): Above the Stars

by Daniel Halayko

  “Hope the cops find something when they clean up the scene so …”

  The stripper climbed off the runway and straddled Alex.

  “Hey,” said Alex, “what are you doing?”

  “You gave me a twenty, honey,” she said. “You get a personal dance.”

  “I didn’t mean to …”

  She grinded against his lap.

  Chak chuckled. “Told you to bring singles.”

  “No, stop. Really.” Alex pushed her shoulders.

  The stripper jumped back. “Keep your hands off. No touching.”

  “Sweetie,” said Chak, “it’s past his bedtime. Bring ‘em buns over here. There’s another twenty in it for ya.”

  The stripper climbed onto Chak’s lap. He looked over her shoulder and said, “Agent, go back to your hotel. We’ll meet at Pike Place tomorrow at noon.”

  The shouting shoppers in Pike Place Market hurt Alex’s ears. He had no idea how the ocean could have any fish left in it after all of the ones displayed on blocks of shaved ice and thrown back and forth into newspapers were caught. He also saw more fruits than he knew existed. For all of the noise and craziness, though, it still seemed tame compared to New York at rush hour.

  He walked past dozens of restaurants before he saw Chak at a booth beneath a sign that read “SAIGON.” It took him a minute to recognize the laughing tiny girl in a Mariners cap and Seahawks windbreaker sitting next to him as the stripper.

  “That’s so funny,” she said to Chak. “You’re so Canadian, always saying, ‘eh?’ ‘eh’?”

  “You only say it if you expect to be agreed with. It’s like, ‘This is good chicken pho, eh?’”

  She slurped a spoonful of noodles. “It’s not as good as grandma’s.”

  Chak tilted his hat back as Alex approached the table. “You remember Lam from last night, right?”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “Well, after you left, we got to talking, one thing led to another ...”

  Lam cuddled Chak. “And another, and another, and another …”

  “Next thing I know, her grandma’s cooking us breakfast. This girl’s got vitality. You can pick ‘em, agent.”

  “We have to talk about our investigation,” said Alex. “It’s serious business.”

  She pointed to the steaming bowl of noodles. “But I’m not done with my chicken pho.”

  “Come on,” said Chak. “She gave us some excitement. Let’s give her some.”

  Alex stood at the table’s edge. “Max and the other detectives called up every legally recognized superhero with super-strength between Eugene and Vancouver and as far east as Billings. The only ones he couldn’t get solid alibis from were the least likely suspects because they couldn’t fit through that tiny basement door or leave quickly like our guy did. No anti-heroes in the northwest have that power. There’s no accounts of super-strong flyers in the city last night, and the few super-strong teleporters are accounted for.”

  “What about villains?”

  “No reported sightings of any with that kind of powers.”

  “Villains?” asked Lam. “Are you guys superheroes?”

  “Damn right.” Chak drew a knife and balanced its point on his finger.

  “Oh my God! I said you looked like Quickhatch from those De Novo comics.” She poked Chak’s chest. “Why did you lie?”

  “I didn’t. I said I get that a lot.”

  “Wow. Most guys don’t get cooler the morning after. So why don’t you wear a mask and tights like the other superheroes anymore?”

  Chak said, “I’m too old for that crap.”

  “How old are you, anyway?”

  “Darling, I’d tell you all my secrets, but I don’t know where to start.”

  Lam turned to Alex. “Are you a superhero too?”

  Alex decided Lam didn’t need to know about his past as Agent Exo. “No, a MAB agent.”

  “Cool! Can I see your badge?”

  Alex flipped it out.

  She seemed disappointed. “A picture card? I hoped it’d be a star. I like stars.”

  Alex ignored her. “The cops identified eight bodies in Xiao Fang Zi. All had criminal records. The clean-up crew found the rest of David. His pockets were torn open. Piles of money and recognizable drugs were around him. No MacGuffin. Nothing else seemed to be taken.”

  “Any other clues?”

  “A shop owner said he saw a tall Chinese man in a blue suit. The arms looked wet below the elbows.”

  “When you say ‘suit,’ you mean superhero leotards?”

  “No, a business suit. The witness noted it looked expensive. That’s all we got right now.”

  “Did the boy say anything?”

  Alex shook his head. “All he said was ‘Qing Long.’ Max says that translates to dark-blue dragon.”

  “You mean Azure Dragon,” said Lam. “I mean, to us Vietnamese it’s Thanh Long, but it’s the same story.”

  Chak turned to her. “What story?”

  Alex said, “We don’t have time for this. Max is …”

  “Agent, shut up,” said Chak. “Lam, keep talking.”

  “Every Asian who’s not a total banana knows about Azure Dragon.” She pointed at Alex. “The way you were looking at my tattoos, I assumed you did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Lam lifted her cut-off jeans to the top of her right thigh. “Okay, you know what these stars are, right?”

  “Those are stars?”

  “Uh, duh. What did you think they were?”

  “Girl, you make stargazing fun,” said Chak.

  Lam giggled. “In western astrology these stars form Sagittarius, Scorpio, Libra, and Virgo. But in Asian astrology they make one constellation, Azure Dragon. He’s one of four main symbols.” She lifted her left pant leg to reveal more star tattoos. “This is Vermillion Phoenix, and on the back of my legs I have Black Turtle and White Tiger.”

  “Tell me more about the dragon,” said Chak.

  Alex asked, “Why did you get those tattooed on you?”

  “To remember that what’s above the stars is heaven.”

  “Fine, but why on your legs?”

  “Because what’s above the stars,” she raised her eyebrows twice, “is heaven.”

  Chak laughed.

  Alex groaned.

  Lam lowered her shorts. “Most guys like that joke.”

  “Don’t mind Agent O’Farrell,” said Chak. “He’s frustrated because he hasn’t figured out we’re just bags of viscera trying to impose our will on a cold, vast universe that was here long before us and will go on long after we’re gone.”

  Lam shrugged. “That’s true for most people.”

  “And his wife cheated on him.”

  Alex turned red from equal parts of anger and embarrassment. “Did you have to tell her that?”

  “Aw, sad,” said Lam, “but you’re still wearing a wedding ring.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Are you going to work it out or leave her?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Geez. No need to get snippy.”

  Chak said, “Yeah, agent. Be nice to the little lady.”

  Alex grit his teeth. “Chak, I want to find a drug that killed three people and stop a mass murdering vigilante. Meet me outside when you’re done playing with the hooker.”

  Lam narrowed her eyes. “Hey, I’m a stripper, not a hooker. World of difference.”

  “Maybe in your world.” Alex walked away.

  “Steve, enjoy your time in North Carolina,” Alex said into his smartphone. “Think about the talk we had. I have no idea what a former New York Guardian and a renegade anti-hero are doing in North Carolina, but don’t get involved.” After a pause he continued, “Then step up and be a hero. I have to run. I’m in the middle of an investigation.”

  He put his phone in his pocket when Chak pushed the glass door open. “Nice of you to finally come out. We need to …”
<
br />   Chak interrupted. “I don’t know where you get off insulting a lady.”

  “Lam’s not exactly a lady.”

  “Insult any woman again, those will be your last words.”

  Alex stood in front of him. “Is that a threat? Because threatening a federal agent is a felony.”

  Chak tilted his hat over his eyes. “Take it however you want, big man with a badge.”

  “Be as pissed off as you want. You didn’t have to tell that stripper about my wife.”

  “Ain’t exactly a secret. Every New York Guardian knew before you did.”

  Alex clenched his fists, breathed deeply, and loosened his fingers. “I don’t know why you got involved with this case, but I’m at my limit. You do one more stupid thing and I’ll make this a full MAB investigation. We’ll find the MacGuffin and the killer without you, and if you get in our way I’ll arrest you for interference. Got it?”

  Chak tilted his hat back and stared into Alex’s eyes. “What were you saying about Max?”

  “He’s got some warrants to search some suspected smuggling fronts on the docks and is waiting with a team of uniformed cops. It’s a few blocks south of that strip joint you dragged me to last night, so if your bare feet can handle it we can walk.”

  “Lead the way.” After walking a block in silence Chak said, “Gotta say, I thought we were going to go at it back there.”

  “Was that what you wanted?”

  “When a fella’s mean to a lady, I want to hurt him. Didn’t think much past that.”

  “If we fought, I’d end up in the hospital, you’d be in prison, and a whole lot more people would die from MacGuffin and the unknown killer.”

  “All the same, not slugging me was smart. Not a lot of men can keep their head.”

  “I spent a month in intensive therapy after Mind Dame turned me into a suicidal mess. The shrinks taught me lots of coping mechanisms.”

  “Then you got torn apart and put yourself back together again too. If you can cope, how did you end up in a fistfight with Bart last week?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “He said he kicked your ass. Didn’t say why.”

  “It was over Knockout Rose.”

  “Shapely redhead with the New Sentinels?”

  “Used to be a New Sentinel. Now she’s with the Prospects, our experimental team. A goon slashed her face.”

  “A few drops of my blood can heal that right up. I gave Bart more than he needed to reattach his arm.”

  “But Bart didn’t want to share it because Knockout Rose spurned him. That’s why I slugged him.”

  “Well, I ain’t the kind to let a lady suffer. If you need …”

  “It’s handled. If you want to help, Gale Force has a broken leg.”

  “Wouldn’t suggest that. My blood heals soft tissue damage pretty fast, but it makes bones fuse the wrong way. Bart had his arm’s bones surgically screwed together before the infusion to prevent that. Took a lot of surgery. Said it hurt like hell.”

  “Too bad for him.”

  “Get the feeling you don’t like him much.”

  “And I get the feeling you don’t know him like I do. Stormhead ordered him to give your blood to Knockout Rose. He still tried to back out.”

  “Wish I could say I was surprised. Bart’s horrible with women. I keep telling him to treat ‘em like people so he’ll figure out that’s what they are.”

  “Not bad, coming from a guy who likes strippers.”

  “What’s wrong with strippers?”

  “It’s exploitation, don’t you think?”

  “Exploitation? Let me ask you something, agent. Those shoes you’re wearing, where were they made?”

  “Wherever Florsheim’s factory is.”

  “Those places are full of sad-eyed children who look like Lam’s little sisters. They can’t buy the shoes they make because they need every cent for rice. Now tell me, do you hate those kids?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But you don’t care about ‘em, which is worse than hating ‘em because you never consider how they suffer so your tender tootsies dry. See, I do. That’s why I don’t wear shoes. A girl in America chooses to earn money by dancing without anyone touching her, that’s not exploitation. A bunch of kids slaving away to make something you get dirty so they don’t starve, that is.”

  “I don’t have a healing factor. I can’t let my feet get cut up.”

  “So tell me, would you look down on Lam less if she was making your shoes in Vietnam?”

  “I’d look down on her less if she wasn’t so crude.”

  “You paid for her lap dance.”

  “Asshole.” Alex shook his head. “I can’t wait to wrap up this case and get back to New York.”

  “Guess you’re not going to vote for me to join your team.”

  “Bart’s the only one who wants you there. Harry hates you …”

  “He hates everyone. But I liked his wife. Sorry I missed Mindy’s funeral.”

  “… and Gale Force said she’ll vote however I vote. Stormhead wants a clear majority on any new picks.”

  “I won’t beg. The New York Guardians are in shitty shape. You need me more than I need you.”

  “We’re better off short-handed than stuck with a sex-addicted loose cannon.”

  “I ain’t addicted, but without women what’s the point of being men?”

  The cranes and freighters attached to piers that stretched into the Puget Sound lay before them. Max waved from a police car parked outside of the chain link fence topped with rolls of barbed wire.

  “Agent O’Farrell, Chak.” He pointed to a sheet of paper in his hand. “I have a list of potential smugglers. We ran background checks and researched tax records to find some we could …” A gust of wind blew the list from his hand. “Ah, damn it!”

  “Quick question, detective,” said Chak. “What’s the Azure Dragon?”

  “It’s a constellation. I looked it up on Wikipedia.”

  “Guess that makes you what Lam would call a ‘total banana.’”

  Max snorted. “Not the first time I’ve been called that.”

  “What does it mean?” asked Alex.

  “An Asian assimilated into American culture. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside.”

  “That sounds racist.”

  “Yeah it is.”

  Chak nose twitched. “You smell that?”

  “Smell what?” asked Alex.

  “Iron and sulfur. Blood and fire. The stuff of MacGuffin.” He pointed to the furthest pier. “Over there.”

  Alex, Max, and Chak ran against the wind to a small warehouse with walls of rusted corrugated sheet metal.

  “Wait,” said Max. “We don’t have a warrant to search that one.”

  Chak said, “Agent, you gonna arrest me if I bust in there?”

  “Metahuman law says you can trespass if you have reason to believe a crime is being committed. But you are accountable for any damage to the premises or injuries committed if they outweigh the benefits of your actions.”

  “Good enough.” Chak ran with the easy grace of a wild animal to a corner of the building. He effortlessly climbed the metal support to an open window near the roof and slipped inside.

  “I heard that guy has racked up a hell of a body count over his career,” said Max. “Think he’ll kill anyone?”

  “He might,” said Alex, “and if you, as an officer of the law, think he will, we have reasonable cause to charge in there without a warrant. It’s exigent circumstances.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “The occupants could press charges, but as long as our intention is to save lives they’d have to prove we acted maliciously, and since Chak is acting with reasons from superhuman senses we can’t be doing that.”

  “That’s legal?”

  “We’re bending the law, not breaking it. Trust me, I have a law degree.”

  “Good enough for me. Let’s go.”

  Alex, Max, and the un
iformed policemen banged on the heavy reinforced sliding door at the front of the building. “Police! Open up!” Max shouted, followed with some phrases in Chinese.

  Screams and bangs echoed inside the building.

  “Gunshots.” Alex turned back to the uniformed policemen. “Get it open.”

  It took three policemen to shove the door open. Alex and Max entered with guns drawn.

  Several Asian men inside fell to their knees and put their hands on their heads.

  Chak’s voice came from the other side of the wall. “Come on in. They ain’t gonna give us trouble.”

  Alex kicked the office door open.

  The room was filled with animal parts. Furry pelts of all colors, ranging from the black-and-white tiger to a golden lion’s skin, lined the walls. A crate filled with dried bear paws was near the front door. On the other side was a barrel filled with bones and antlers. Other animal parts, many Alex couldn’t identify, were scattered throughout the shelves and tables in the room.

  Chak stood in the middle with a knife against a leathery skinned Asian man’s throat. To his right another man held his bloody hand against his stomach.

  “What’s all this?” asked Alex.

  “Smuggling operation.” Max picked up a black bear paw. “Soups made from these sell for a thousand dollars in China. Those bones are ground into medicines. I’ll bet that refrigerator in the corner is filled with gall bladders and glands. The tiger skin makes me think these guys deal with poachers from around the world.”

  “All these animals slaughtered,” said Chak, “and Agent O’Farrell wants me to go easy on the people who did it.”

  “Please,” said the man, “No English.”

  “Guess he’s no good to us.” Chak pressed the knife against the leathery man’s throat.

  “Don’t do it,” said Alex.

  “Stop me if you can.”

  The leathery man screamed. “Wait! I talk.”

  The wounded man ran back into a corner. Alex approached him.

  “Careful, agent,” said Chak. “He drew a gun on me. I slashed his tendons.”

  Max drew a transparent capsule with a cube of MacGuffin from his coat. “Do you have this?”

  “Yeah, yeah. We have.” He pointed to the top of the refrigerator.

  Max pulled down an egg carton in front of an open window. “There’s about a dozen cubes here.”