Guardian

by Matthew S. Cox

  A strangled gargling noise escaped his throat, too angry to form words, though his surface thoughts betrayed him again.

  “Wow… your wife was psionic and religious. She really believed you followed ‘the word.’ Guess she couldn’t take it when she found out the truth that you never believed… you knew a good con when you had one. Scream God and people shower you with credits, adoration, and power.”

  “This creature is in my mind!” He twitched. “Kill her!”

  Kirsten laughed. “You just admitted that I’m right, idiot.”

  “Don’t!” yelled the pizza guy. “My finger moves a fuckin’ millimeter and your brains are pudding on the wall. You boys ever see what a 40mm shotgun blast does to a head?”

  Both of Harris’s thugs eyed the enormous rifle. People behind them cleared out of the line of fire.

  Two Division 0 patrol craft came down hard outside; four bodies in Psi Armor charged out and ran for the front door.

  “You…” rasped Harris. “You broke the law by doing what you did!”

  Kirsten’s gaze shifted back and forth between the thugs. “On the floor.”

  The men, grunting and straining against the psionic compulsion, lowered themselves prone.

  “And you, Harris. You disobeyed a lawful order to disperse, not to mention just threatened the life of a member of the National Police Force in front of a room full of witnesses. That’s a twenty year sentence, minimum.”

  “If you arrest him, it’s going to be a media fiasco,” said Dorian.

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “Cast off the vile magic of Satan. Get up!” Harris waved both arms in an uplifting gesture at his cronies. “Take hold of my wayward granddaughter and let us leave this evil behind us. You shall be cleansed, my child.”

  “No!” Screamed Ashley. “You’re gonna kill me just like you killed my mother!” She clutched her hands at her chest, shaking almost too hard to remain standing. “You’re gonna tie me to a cross and light me on fire like you did to that guy a couple months ago.”

  “God! Why does she spew such vile lies and hatred! Why has my own flesh and blood embraced Satan?”

  “He wants you to kill them,” said Dorian.

  Kirsten looked at the men on the floor. “This old con man wants you to attack me so he can turn you into martyrs. He doesn’t care what happens to you.”

  “Police, Division 0!” shouted a man with a laser rifle. “Everyone, weapons down now!”

  The other three officers made entry behind him, spreading out to either side and covering the room. Everyone who’d produced a weapon eased them down on tables, except for the old mostly-blind man who whirled to aim at the wall behind him. The gun jerked out of his hands, making him yelp, and floated over to the officer at the far left. The pizza man kept his shotgun trained on Harris and his friends.

  “You too, Karl,” said Nila. “Please.”

  Kirsten did a double take at the armored woman. Nila! Holy shit; you showed up just in time. This guy…

  “God is watching, demon-spawn. He doesn’t forget, and neither do I.” Harris glared at her for a second before posing himself as if in prayer, but his hand went for the submachinegun abandoned by his bodyguard.

  “Drop it!” yelled Kirsten.

  The old man hunched forward, trembling with his effort to overpower the command.

  Dorian stepped in front of Harris. A smoky aura of white energy billowed around him as he stepped across the veil, manifested. “Think carefully, Harris. The other side isn’t what you’re hoping for.”

  Reverend Harris fell backward, grasping his chest and wheezing. “She… she’s forcing me to grab this weapon. The demons want an excuse to be rid of us.” He struggled to look up at the patrons sitting at their tables. “Lies…”

  Ashley let out a high-pitched shriek and pounced onto Kirsten with a hug from behind. Kirsten had her halfway into a jiu-jitsu flip before she realized her ‘attacker’ was a teenager trying to cling for protection. She adjusted her grip from throw to hold, and carried the girl back around onto her feet.

  “Sorry. Please don’t come up behind me like that.”

  Dorian’s energy aura faded with an audible whuff.

  Ashley sniffled and nodded. “W-what was that?”

  “Looked like a hip toss,” said Dorian.

  Kirsten shook her head at him. “A ghost. I’ll explain later.”

  “Whoa,” said Karl the pizza guy. “Was that like… a hologram?”

  Reverend Harris lost consciousness with a gurgling rasp. One of the Tactical officers called for a MedVan while checking his vitals. Nila and the other woman rolled the thugs over and cuffed them before collecting their weapons. The Division 0 tactical team began the process of taking statements from the civilians in the room, though Nila walked over to Kirsten.

  The old blind man grabbed at the air before patting around his table. “Ey, where’d my gun go?”

  “Good to see you.” Kirsten shuddered as her adrenaline rush subsided.

  “Damn, girl… You keep walking straight into shit.” Nila frowned at Harris. “Speaking of shit… where’d he come from.”

  Kirsten gave a quick explanation. Ashley offered “yeahs,” nods, and whimpers throughout the story.

  A trio of Division 1 cars swept in on clouds of cryo-fumes and settled down on their wheels out front. Five men and one woman in blue armor climbed out and filed in.

  “You boys are late to the party,” said Nila.

  “These two are yours.” Kirsten gestured at the thugs.

  The Division 1 officers saluted her; about half of them muttered “agent” as a greeting.

  Their sergeant, the woman, approached. “Agent. You okay? What happened?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry before, but… I’m not hurt. This girl’s psionic. She requested protection, fearing for her life.”

  “From these three?” Sergeant Ortiz indicated Harris with her thumb.

  “Yeah. You recognize them?”

  “Can’t say I do.”

  Kirsten grinned. “That just made me feel a lot better.” She indicated the room with a nod. “None of the civilians were involved. You can probably pin those two with a charge of brandishing a weapon in a public place… The old bastard tried to order them to kill me.”

  “Oof.” Sergeant Ortiz shook her head. “Hope you got that recorded.”

  Kirsten tapped the name/rank/badge cluster above her left breast. “Yep. Probably on the building’s security system too… plus witness accounts.”

  “They’ll argue psionic compulsion even though its horseshit,” said Dorian. “My bet is Command makes this go away quiet.”

  “All right. I’ll send over our Inquest number when we wrap the scene.” Sergeant Ortiz clapped her on the shoulder twice.

  Kirsten bit back the urge to grunt under the woman’s heavy-handed show of camaraderie. “Will do. I need to escort this girl back to the PAC.”

  “What’s that?” asked Ashley.

  “Police Administrative Center. It’s where the dorms are. It sounds intimidating, but it’s not bad. You’ll be surrounded by other psionics. Kids, instructors, and mentors. No way in hell will any of those crazies be able to get to you.” She froze. “Wait.” Kirsten pointed at the thug who wasn’t at the hostage situation. “I’ve seen that man before. He tried to give an explosive device to a six year old to blow up her psionic family.”

  Sergeant Ortiz nodded. “I’ll add the appropriate charges. Any witnesses?”

  “Yes, the girl. Ankita… Ravi. The poor kid’s still terrified of being outside. I’ll send you the file as soon as I can.”

  “Sounds good, Agent.” Sergeant Ortiz saluted, and backed off to oversee the rest of the Div 1 team.

  “Hey…” Ashley raised her arms and let them drop at her sides. “If I don’t get locked in my bedroom at night and have to live with the constant fear of being burned at the stake, it’s an improvement.”

  Kirsten wanted to
hug the air out of the girl. “Did they really?”

  “Yeah. They always locked me in at night. My room even had bars over the windows… ‘to keep the demons out.’ If the building burned down, I’d have been dead.” The teen’s face paled. “I found burnt rope… touched it. Visions. Some guy on fire. I don’t know who did it or who he was, but… uhh, yeah. Nightmares.”

  So much for the peaceful Reverend Harris and his ‘faith’ that prayer will get rid of us. She rubbed Ashley’s shoulder. “My mother used to lock me in the closet when I was little.”

  “Really?” Ashley sniffled. “Why?”

  “She was as crazy as your grandfather, thought psionics came from the Devil. One thing about ghosts… word seems to spread fast among them. It got out that I could see them, so they all started showing up to ask me for help. And Mother couldn’t cope.”

  “Sorry.” Ashley shivered. “Hey, if you guys want me to like testify or something about that burning, I will.”

  “We’ll see. Come on. There’s someone you need to meet.” Kirsten took her by the hand and led her out to the patrol craft. “Doctor Loring’s great.”

  She opened the door to let Ashley in the back seat, and glanced over at the hover-stretcher carrying Reverend Harris to the waiting MedVan. The old man shifted his head toward her, a hateful glare in his eyes even though he could barely breathe.

  Kirsten contemplated sending an image of a Harbinger into his mind… She grumbled and dropped into the seat. Causing a fatal heart attack wouldn’t be worth it. Not even for a miserable excuse of a person like Reverend Harris. His words, pure hatred masked in the guise of false religion, brought back memories of Mother. With the door closed, and the patrol craft between her and the world, she buried her hands in her face and wept.

  Dorian rubbed her shoulder, a cool presence sliding back and forth. He didn’t need to say anything.

  Ashley poked her head between the seats. “You okay?”

  “Not really…” Kirsten sniffled back tears, searching for composure. “Trying to get my mother out of my head.”

  “Sorry.” Ashley held her hand. “Thanks for saving my ass… twice.”

  Kirsten smiled.

  Dorian glanced out at the sun gleaming off distant century towers. “I should probably zip over to the school and warn Evan to wear body armor tonight so you don’t break his ribs from hugging him too hard.”

  She sighed. “What is wrong with this world?”

  “I’ll start that conversation once you’re a ghost too. It’ll take too long.” He winked.

  “Beats me,” said Ashley. “Hey… can we get food on the way? I, uhh, haven’t really eaten in two days.”

  “Yeah, sure. What do you want?” Kirsten grabbed the sticks and pulled the patrol craft skyward.

  “Anything but oatmeal.” Ashley shuddered.

  fter sitting with Ashley Harris during the forty some odd minutes it took to process her into the system, Kirsten traded hugs with the teen before trudging back to the operations area and her squad room. Lieutenant Commander Ashford looked up from the chair at the side of her desk where an interviewee would sit, and produced perhaps the warmest smile his corpselike countenance could muster.

  She hurried over to her desk and saluted him as he stood. “Commander.”

  “At ease, Agent.”

  “I assume you’re here about the Reverend Harris incident?” She wasn’t sure if she should remain stiff at attention or relax, and wound up somewhere between the two.

  “Correct. It came down to a choice between taking a peek, or an exhaustive interview with a review board. I took the liberty of assuming you would prefer the expedience.”

  She relaxed. “Yes, sir. That’s fine.”

  He gestured at her chair and sat in the side spot again.

  She opened her mind, offering no resistance to his telepathic probe. Her brain seemed to writhe in her head as if massaged by a ghost’s hands. Three minutes later, it stopped. When the room stopped blurring, Captain Eze came into focus at her side.

  “Confirmation,” said Lieutenant Commander Ashford with a nod at Eze.

  “Of course.” She smiled at Captain Eze, who repeated the mind read, though it took him seven minutes of a sensation closer to cool water pouring over her brain.

  “I’m impressed,” said Ashford once Eze broke contact. “Considering your history, you showed an almost unbelievable amount of restraint in that situation. I’m sure you were correct in your belief that Harris was attempting to provoke an incident, though I doubt the man wished to personally become the martyr. Command was concerned with possible ramifications of deliberate action against Harris and his followers, but you did about as well as could be expected.”

  “Thank you, sir. It wasn’t easy to hear that same crap again. Based on what his granddaughter said, I have reason to believe he’s committed or at least orchestrated two murders… but I have no proof.”

  Captain Eze nodded. “We are opening an investigation, though that case isn’t going your way. Kurosawa drew that one.”

  “Oh, good. A clairvoyant is probably just the thing for that.” Kirsten glanced at her terminal. “I’ve got some leads on the case I’m working. I think the victim of an organ harvester is trying to get his pieces back, or at least trying to hurt whoever got them.”

  “Ouch.” Captain Eze cringed.

  “Am I late?” asked a pleasant sounding… somewhat familiar male voice.

  Captain Eze grinned. Lieutenant Commander Ashford straightened his posture.

  Kirsten glided around in her chair, stunned at the sight of Mikhail Kovalev, West City Regional Commander, strolling into her squad room. Despite his name and occasional (deliberate) Russian accent, the man looked Middle Eastern, and had the sort of disarming demeanor one might expect from a kindly neighbor rather than the man in charge of Division 0’s activities in the entire city, his rank the military equivalent of a Major General.

  “Sir.” Kirsten jumped up and saluted.

  Captain Eze and Lieutenant Commander Ashford saluted as well.

  “At ease, all.” Commander Kovalev smiled. “I’m not too late am I?”

  “No, sir,” said Captain Eze.

  Kirsten glanced back and forth between the three men. “The girl called me, sir. I had no idea Harris was going to walk in there.”

  Commander Kovalev raised his hand in a calming gesture. “Oh, that’s not why I’m here, Agent.” He nodded to Captain Eze.

  The Captain produced a small, flat box with a black metal Division 0 logo in the center of the lid. “Kirsten, you’ve been active duty now for six years. Your rank of Agent was granted due to your unique skill set, and as you know is only used for cadets who are activated out of necessity.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Godzilla of butterflies rose up in her stomach and roared. She hoped no one heard the borborygmi.

  “I know this is a bit late in coming, but I am pleased to be able to offer you a promotion to Second Lieutenant, effective immediately.” Captain Eze lifted the lid of the box, exposing a full set of rank pins and insignia: a single black bar for her field gear and gold for her dress uniform.

  Meep! Kirsten saluted him. “Thank you, sir. I hope I’m ready for it.”

  Commander Kovalev shook her hand, patting it as well. “Captain Eze certainly seems to think so. Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

  They exchanged salutes again.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me… meetings abound.” Commander Kovalev traded salutes with Eze and Ashford before walking out.

  Kirsten stared at the box in her hands. Guess I’m not a kid hanging out with the real cops anymore.

  “Congrats, Wren.” Captain Eze patted her on the shoulder.

  “Don’t let it go to your head, butter-bar.” Dorian winked as he gave her the traditional insult. “You’re only a two-LT. You probably got more respect as an agent.”

  If not for Lieutenant Commander Ashford still being there, she’d have stuck her tongue out at Dorian. Captain Eze
withdrew to his office with Ashford in tow. She sank into her chair, numb, and stared at the rank pins. Dorian took his seat at the desk behind hers and leaned back, fingers laced behind his head. She switched nametags with the one in the box, and fiddled with it until it felt normal. The matte-black metal remained difficult to see against her sheer uniform top. The National Police Force had adopted military doctrine: field uniforms didn’t conspicuously display rank to make it more difficult for hostile forces to target the command structure.

  Kirsten tucked the box in her top left drawer. “Crap. I got sidetracked for so long with that idiot…” Come on brain… stop spinning. She pulled her NetMini off her belt and called Nicole.

  The redhead’s spritely grin appeared nine seconds later, rendered in six-inch hologram. “Hey, K. What’s up?”

  “Are you busy at―”

  “Ooo. Your tag changed! Is that legit? You’re a lieutenant!?”

  “—the moment? Uhh, yeah I just―”

  “Not really. Me and Forrester are on a patrol. Congrats!”

  “—found out… You two mind meeting me some place for―”

  “K, you have got to try the food at this place. I am so taking you out to dinner to celebrate!” The hologram Nicole leaned away, muttering low. “What’s the name of that place again? Oh. Right.” She returned to the frame. “Sombrero’s. It’s south off the plates.”

  “―backup? My adrenaline’s still spiky and I’d feel better with―”

  “It looks like a tornado hit it, but the food is fawesome.”

  Kirsten sighed. “Some backup.”

  “Sure. Send us a pin, Lieutenant.” Nicole crossed her eyes and saluted.

  Laughing, Kirsten returned the gesture. “Okay. See you there.”

  She unlocked her desk terminal long enough to log her intent to visit the 1UP clinic and send Nicole’s patrol craft a nav pin. According to the map, their current location put them a third the distance to 1UP compared to Kirsten, so they would arrive first. Considering how Nicole drove, likely by a healthy margin.

  “Coming?” asked Kirsten.