Music of the Soul 1, 2, & 3 Starter Bundle

by Erik Schubach

The third one was the loudmouth of the bunch. He looked to be a thinker, but just barely. Standing around 5'-10” with a moderate build. He'd be the second to attack after watching my reactions to the big guy. His moderately sharp eyes sat below his greasy black hair on his long, unattractive face.

  This is one dynamic I have never understood about the degenerates of the human world. It is usually the smaller, weaker of the bunch who is the leader that the others simply blindly follow. Whereas the humans representing justice stand tall and lead by example.

  But of the three, the smaller man had the darker red aura telling me he quite probably was their leader. Red indicates the reservoir of anger and violence in a person, and the strength of the aura shows the willpower or strength of conviction of the individual.

  Blue on the other hand indicates someone's capacity for good, justice and strength of character. Like the bartender and his dim blue glow with it's hints of red trailing it.

  None of the three men I was watching were consequential, with their dim glows and posturing mannerisms all bluster and no substance. I was finishing my second pitcher when they finally noticed I was watching them. Slow much, guys? I've only been staring for an hour.

  The weasel sent them over a couple minutes ago. Greasy hair stood slightly back from the brute and asked loudly, “What ya lookin' at sugar? You want maybe we take you somewhere for some fun?”

  I just turned on my stool to look at him, trying to display my boredom. “You mean the kind of fun you had with that girl down the street tonight?”

  Their eyes looked alarmed as I hissed and narrowed my eyes. “You shouldn't have done that in my neighborhood, boys.”

  The bruiser looked to greasy hair, who nodded almost imperceptibly. People were starting to clear out a bit. I slapped away the incoming blow from the brute as I felt my nano-lattice harden my skin. The magnetic and electrical net energized by the nanites in my body, which in turn were powered by the Earth's magnetic field. I took a large swallow from my mug as I kicked the brute soundly in the stomach, forcing him back a step, tripping over his buddy. It sent them both, gracelessly onto the ground.

  They stood and split up and attacked in a predictable manner. Why don't they teach simple tactics in school here on Earth? A kick to the knee of greasy hair and simply ducking the next blow from the brute and tugging on him to use his momentum to tumble into his friend again was all it took.

  I caught the bartender on the phone out of the corner of my eye, most likely calling the police. I had better wrap this up, but not before I finish my beer. I allowed them to posture before their next attack as I drank. I watched as the weasel stood and advanced half way to us, looking nervously between us and the back door.

  After that third attack and I finished my beer then stood, I almost laughed at the men. Did they really think they could do battle with a Valkyrie of the Asgard? The thought was ludicrous. I have fought beside some great humans in my five thousand years of waiting for my home to return. They were great men and women, worthy of respect. But these men were nothing... the scum of the human world that even their society shunned.

  I allowed my nano-lattice to extend around the mug I was still holding by the handle, hardening it. Back in the day, this is how we did did hand to hand battle against the Ragnarok race when the quarters were too close to use our energy weapons. Grabbing anything we had handy and hardening it into a weapon that could pierce their tough hides.

  The brute swung again and I caught his arm under mine with a thud to my ribs, and trapped it as I quickly struck him multiple times in the face with my beer mug. He went down to his knees, his face bloodied, before his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he fell back unconscious.

  There was a moment of pain after I heard a gunshot as the bullet tore through my left shoulder. I looked over to the weasel with his drawn gun in the middle of the bar. I felt my nanites already attacking the damage to my flesh. People were running or hitting the floor in panic. “Kroth.” I hissed. This would probably hurt more if I wasn't so drunk. I know I'll ache for a week.

  I threw the beer mug at him with as much force as I could manage. It struck simultaneously with a round from another gunshot behind me, the now non-hardened glass shattering on his skull as his shoulder erupted into a bloody red mist. It was hard to tell which had actually sent him to the floor.

  I twisted toward the second gunshot just to be almost blinded by the aura of a woman who was running full tilt to the bar while holstering her gun yelling, “SPD! Everyone down!” She jumped over the brute I had downed earlier and her military style boot shot out and caught the greasy haired buffoon who was quickly scrambling up, on the jaw. Effectively rendering him unconscious.

  She was crouched over, handcuffing greasy hair when she suddenly drew her weapon aiming it confidently behind her without looking, her rich raspy voice called out, “I wouldn't.”

  I smiled... she had seen it too. Weasel was reaching along the floor to his gun, leaving a blood trail in his wake.

  He stopped as she turned and walked toward him with a steely look on her face. Her weapon was trained steadily between his eyes. I watched as she placed a boot on his back while producing a heavy zip-tie from her waistband. She roughly pulled his arms behind him, causing the weasel to scream in pain because of his wounded shoulder as she secured his hands. I dropped a twenty on the bar and discretely made my exit as I heard her calling for backup with shots fired and an ambulance for two gunshot wounds.

  I passed an older detective on the sidewalk as he was sprinting toward the tavern with a hand on his holstered gun. I looked at my shoulder as I walked to the alley and saw the bullet fall out of the rapidly healing wound as I made my way down that garbage strewn corridor between the buildings. The sound of my footsteps echoed off the stained brick walls as my skin pulled together showing a ragged scar, it would take the nanites a couple days to repair all the internal damage to my tissues before they worked on the cosmetic damage to remove the scar.

  “Kroth!” I cursed as I looked at the hole in my favorite jacket. If I hadn't been so drunk I could have easily avoided it. Or if I had just allowed the nano-lattice to harden my skin farther, the small caliber round wouldn't have been able to pierce my skin so easily.

  I chose discretion over safety. People would have seen the blue glow of the net pattern across my skin if I had used more energy. But now I'll pay for it, my shoulder will be sore until the nanites complete the repair. This was quite a minor thing compared to some of the damage I suffered on the battlefield.

  I continued walking toward my apartment. I chose this part of Seattle because of its high crime rate. Something that has been ingrained into me since birth was my sense of justice and the knowledge that the strong should always protect the innocent and the weak, no matter the cost. So this was the perfect area for me to wait for the return of the Asgard.

  When the Earth started its five-thousandth orbit around its star, I did the quick calculation of its rotational axis at the time of transition to determine that the citadel would breach the dimensional divide somewhere in the vicinity of Seattle within a fifty mile radius. The simple computers the humans have are not powerful enough to pinpoint the exact location, so I had to go off of the rough calculation in my head.

  So here I wait, and hide from the relentless Ragnarok on this planet until Father returns. Cleaning up this neighborhood is a good distraction, it keeps my mind off of my situation. I bit my lower lip in anticipation of going home again. I'm so very tired.

  My mind drifted to the incident in the bar. That woman. I have never seen a human aura so strong. But that wasn't the thing that struck me the hardest. Her control and sense of justice rivaled that of a Valkyrie, causing her bright blue aura to be so intense it was almost blinding, I couldn't focus on her.

  Her choice of profession was not surprising to me. No, it was that she had a second aura billowing behind her like the shadow of wings that was just as bright, fighting to get out. It scared me. It was such a dark
red it was almost black, full of anger and vengeance held in check only by her willpower. It looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place it.

  This ability to see and read auras is the curse of the Valkyrie. It is an evolutionary step that few among the Asgard have, and only women seem to have developed it. It has caused some to become reclusive, so they don't see the capacity each person has for good or evil or how close the balance is in some. The ones that can handle it, most likely will become Valkyrie as this ability best allows us to select from the six worlds of this realm we visit, the individuals most suited to join the Asgard if they so wish.

  I was knocked out of my thoughts by the distinct impression that I was being watched, it was not the cold shiver that accompanied the arrival of the Ragnarok that I seem to have developed during my time on Earth. I turned the corner out of the trash littered alley as I jumped up ten feet to a rusty fire escape and my nano-lattice activated.

  I shielded my eyes as a familiar blinding aura emerged from the alley. The officer quickly scanned the street then relaxed her back against the worn brick building. She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead as her raspy voice called out, “You might as well come down. I'm with SPD, you need to get that shoulder looked after... let me get you to the hospital. Then I have some questions for you.”

  I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, threatening a smile. I liked this human, she had moxie and great situational awareness. I sighed and deactivated my nano-lattice, I didn't need this, not when transition was so close. But she struck me as the sort of woman that would track me and hound me until I spoke with her. I silently jumped down and landed lightly in front of her.

  She didn't even flinch, though I could tell that her muscles were at the ready to react if she needed to. Like a wolf, ready to strike. I looked directly into her steel gray eyes as the rest of her was too bright to look at at the moment, she locked onto my blue eyes as I softly said, “I'm fine... and I didn't see anything. You have me confused with someone else.”

  I turned to leave and she reached out and gently grabbed my arm, turning me toward her. Her eyes softened to genuine concern as she said, “We need to get your shoulder looked at miss.”

  I reaffirmed, shaking my head. “I'm fine.”

  She reached out tentatively toward my jacket, I sighed. May as well get this over with. When humans see what they don't understand, they generally opt for the simplest explanation, that they were mistaken. I gave silent permission with an almost imperceptible nod as she lowered my jacket off my left shoulder.

  She looked, then her eyes narrowed as she reached out and ran a warm finger across the new scar. It sent a shiver down my spine. I generally avoid contact with people since attachment breeds sorrow in my case. I have watched countless friends and lovers quickly age and die over the millennium I have spent here on Earth. My heart aches for each and every one of them. With our molecular nanotechnology, we Asgard have extended our lives to hundreds of thousands of Earth years.

  I am weak. I can never stay true to my convictions and wind up befriending someone only to watch time take them away from me. A terrible aspect of lengthened lifespans.

  She shook her head. “I can't quite place your accent...” Suddenly her hand was on her weapon on her hip. “You got a permit for that?”

  I followed her gaze, my pistol grip was visible at my waistband. She reached out and I allowed her to pull it from its holster.

  I nodded. “Yes, I do. I'm a private investigator. And the closest you would have to my accent is Norse.” I reached slowly to the pocket of my jacket and tilted my head in question. “May I?”

  I hated owning a pistol, but the modern world has long range weapons like this that my close combat skills cannot easily counter. The energy weapon I had when I was originally trapped here, has long since lost its charge. I can charge it with my nanites, but it takes weeks with constant contact with my skin to charge it enough for even a single shot. I took the time a while back to have one at the ready in case the Ragnarok find me again.

  She nodded, keeping one hand on the weapon at her hip, tucking my pistol into her waistband with the other. With two fingers I slowly pulled my wallet out of my pocket, then pulled out my concealed carry permit and held it out to her.

  She took it and looked at it. “Kara Wodanaz? You're kidding right?”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her.

  She continued. “I've seen fake names before, but I gotta hand it to you. This is creative. I could believe one or the other, but not both together lady.”

  I almost laughed, she was a smart one, and educated. I decided to see if she was as smart as I was giving her credit for and played dumb. “What do you mean by that?”

  The corners of her mouth quirked as she held back a smile. Was she playing too?

  “Well seeing as how Kara is a name out of Norse legend and Wodanaz is a synonym for Odin... come on now. What are the odds?”

  I grinned at her, I was liking this game. “Well, seeing as how that IS my name, I'd have to say one hundred percent chance. You can call it in if you like, but only if you want to eat your own words. And I didn't catch your name detective...” I left the question hanging.

  She shook her head, not breaking eye contact as she handed the permit back to me and took her hand off her weapon, keeping mine in her waistband. “Detective Kate Summers. What made you think I was a detective, Miss Wodanaz? And how did your gunshot wound heal in a matter of minutes?” Ahhh, she WAS playing.

  I laughed a little, then noticed I was almost sober again, krothing nanites can't leave me that one pleasure. I quirked an eyebrow. “Well, let's see. A plain clothed officer, in quite stylish clothing except the military boots, doesn't scream beat cop to me. And as you well know, it is quite impossible for a gunshot wound as you say, to heal so quickly. Thus, you are mistaken. I'm obviously not the person you are looking for.”

  She shook her head with a little smile as she stuck her finger through the blood stained hole in my jacket and said, “Don't insult my intelligence. I know what I saw, Miss Wodanaz. I'm going to need a statement from you. You can either talk here or down at the station. You didn't do anything wrong except leave the scene in the bar. The choice is yours. You are aware that those men raped an innocent girl tonight aren't you?”

  My blood chilled at the mention of the rape, I still felt guilty for not arriving in time to stop it. “No. That's terrible! I'm sure the men who did it will be caught and brought to justice. And please, call me Kara.”

  She shook her head sadly. “I don't understand – Kara. But have it your way.” She pulled a zip-tie out from her waistband. “Please put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest for impeding a police investigation.”

  I shook my head sadly as she tightened the zip-tie around my wrists behind my back and said, “If you do this, they will find me again.”

  She grabbed me gently by my wrists and led me back into the alley toward the tavern. I caught a hint of her heady scent with her walking so close to me, it was intriguing.

  “Who will find you? We already have the three men in custody, and I won't let them hurt you. Though, judging by your moves in the bar... you don't need much protection,” she asked.

  I sighed. “I just wish to go home detective. If the Ragnarok find me here, it will start a bloodbath when my people arrive. So... please, do not take this personally.” I easily snapped the zip-tie as I twisted around removing my pistol from her waistband. Completing my twist I vaulted over a dumpster onto another rickety fire escape above. She drew her weapon. I looked down at her as I tucked my pistol back into its holster behind my left hip.

  My eyes had finished adapting to the intensity of her aura and I could finally see her clearly. I inhaled sharply. I would have to say that she was one of the most stunning human women I had laid my eyes on. Not a traditional beauty, but something... different. Something strong. She had unmistakable... charisma?

  She was taller than me, possibly 5'-10”. She appeared to be in h
er late twenties or early thirties. She exuded a dangerous combination of strength and feminine grace. Her long straight brunette hair tied in a professional ponytail to keep it out of her line of sight. Her slight build just lent to her elegance. Her Germanic face was strong but flawlessly feminine, at least to me. Her large eyes and small nose hinted at some Asian heritage, and her full lips were quite alluring, even with their current crease of determination.

  I pulled a card out of my wallet. Blank except for my real address printed on it. I dropped it to her as I started climbing the creaking fire escape steps toward the roof. The metallic clanging of my footsteps echoing in the alleyway. She wouldn't shoot.

  “Stop!” she commanded as I kept climbing. Then she added quietly, “What are you?”

  Kroth but she's intelligent!

  I called down to her, “Meet me there at midnight and we can talk. But please, I cannot go to the station nor be in your reports. I'll explain everything... truthfully... but you won't believe it. Come alone. I'll know if you don't and I'll disappear for good.” Or at least until home arrives.

  I heard her holster her gun as I climbed over the roof parapet. How the kroth did I get things so messed up when the transition was so close? I leapt from rooftop to rooftop on my way to my apartment. I couldn't get her face out of my head. This human was remarkable.