The Land Beyond All Dreams

by Bryan Fields

  The cop who pepper-sprayed me snapped his utility knife open. “Try this one, asshole!” He thrust the blade into Thain’s desiccated heart, slicing the chain in half. The crystal shattered, dissolving into a spray of crimson drops.

  Thain dropped to his knees. He looked up at the cop, bones cracking and skin dissolving. A dry, raspy chuckle slipped out as he smiled. “Most… unexpected…” He collapsed into a pile of bone and scrap.

  I got to my feet and reclaimed Kindness from the grass behind me. “Nice knife. What the Hell is it?”

  The cop folded it closed with his thumb. “Ceramic. It’s not metal, so when he said that, I decided to give it a shot.” He put the knife back on his belt and surveyed the area. “What in God’s name is going on here?”

  I sheathed Kindness and held my hands out away from my body, keeping them clearly visible. “I don’t know. Whatever he’s up to, I’m not part of it.” I forced myself to take a calming breath. Inhale for a four-count, hold for the same, out-two-three-four. I met the cop’s eyes and said, “You’re safe. It’s all over now.”

  The cop’s head twitched twice. He glanced around, looking for the other officers. When he looked back, I met his eyes again.

  “You should tell me to clear the park and go home,” I told him. “It’s safer for everyone that way.”

  “You’re a witness,” the cop responded. “You’re needed for questioning.”

  I smiled at him. “Well done,” I said. “Would you escort me back to my house so I can tell my girlfriend I’m all right?”

  “Of course.

  Five minutes later I locked the front door and pulled Rose into my arms. “Thank you, dear. I guess I need to practice that spell some more.”

  “Yes, you do.” She gave me a long kiss and added, “Still, bagging an undead necromancer is quite an accomplishment, even if he doesn’t stay dead.”

  I pulled back from her. “Not stay dead? Can that happen?”

  “I’ve heard of it happening. It’s rare, and I doubt he was powerful enough to pull it off.” She smiled and gave me a kiss. “You do need more training, though. We should get you some lessons with a Dwarven War-Priest. They worship the Lady of Death, and killing is their sacrament.”

  “Sounds like a real jolly bunch.”

  “They are,” she said. “They take joy in every moment and savor each new dawn, for it might be their last. The best way to die, they say, is with a song in your heart, a lover’s kiss on your lips, and your teeth in the throat of your enemy.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. I think I’d like people like that. We should have time, since I’m going to be unemployed soon.” I started warming water for a hot cup of chai and ran my hand through my hair while the microwave toiled away. “I’m scared, Rose.”

  “Of the dead man? Why?” When she saw my raised eyebrow, she shook her head. “If he had any power at all, he would have brought an army. Instead, he was trying to put one together. Raising an army here would allow him to attack his homeland with overwhelming force and complete surprise. It’s a good plan.”

  “Why wouldn’t he just conquer Earth and be done with it?”

  “That’s not how anyone narcissistic enough to will themselves not to die thinks. People like that are driven to show everyone how powerful they are. How smart, how clever.” She snorted. “We’ve seen necromancers like him before. They fail because their armies of the dead literally have nothing to live for. Besides, there’s nothing like a zombie horde to convince the living to put their differences aside and fight as one.”

  I added sugar and milk to my chai and turned on the late news. “I hope you’re right, and he really is dead. Killing him again might be kind of tricky.”

  Rose snuggled up to me and took a sip of her chai. “Everything burns,” she said. “Bring enough fire, and he’ll burn too.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ishmael

  Monday morning started at my lawyer’s office. I was in for a non-stop series of questions, interrupted by fresh pots of stale coffee, restated questions, and stale questions freshly asked by people who hadn’t been around the first time. My lawyer told me what to say and when to say it. Other than that, I kept my mouth shut and drank the coffee.

  After lunch, the FBI showed up and things got a bit more intense. The Sherriff’s department had tried to serve a search warrant on Grover, but he hadn’t answered. They got an entry order and forced the door to his house. They found him upstairs in his bed, where he’d been resting peacefully for at least six months. Someone had obviously been living in the house and pretending to be Grover, but there was no sign of that person now. I did my best to look surprised and horrified.

  Grover’s phone records showed the two calls between us last night. I didn’t deny speaking with him. I said I had wanted to know how many people were on the project in total—a figure I already knew—and that he had called back to give me his answer. It wasn’t a lie to say I was having qualms over the number of people who were going to be losing their jobs.

  It still got me a stern look from one of the FBI agents, a guy named John Roberts. He asked me to step into a conference room for a private chat. He closed the door behind me and asked, “Are you sure that’s the only reason you called Dr. Page’s phone number? A suspicious person might think it looked like someone tipping off an accomplice. What do you think, David?” He stopped and shook his head. “My apologies, Mr. Fraser. I got ahead of myself. Do you mind if I call you David?”

  I shrugged. “David is fine. As for what I think? I think I’d love to know what I have to say to get you to move on to a real suspect.” I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. “This whole thing with Grover has me freaked out. We weren’t friends, but I never had any reason to think someone was impersonating him. I had no idea he was dead until earlier today. What else do you want me to say?”

  “You don’t seem too broken up about it. A man is dead, David.”

  “A lot of people are dead. Some of them butchered and eaten. Grover caused that behavior with his chemical cocktail. He covered those killings up. He made today necessary. Sorry, but I’m saving my sympathy for the victims.”

  Roberts tapped his fingers on the desk. “Let me tell you what I think, David. You were in a car accident a year and a half ago. The hospital recorded your religion as ‘Whovian’. As it happens, I know what that word means. I’m a fan myself. Knitted myself a fourteen-foot scarf to wear to conventions. Hell, I even bought my first car because it was the perfect shade of blue.” He leaned back in his chair. “I think you called Dr. Page to convince him to turn himself in. You wanted to give him a chance to do the right thing. If he didn’t make the right choice, everything that happened afterward would be on him. Now, I’m giving you a chance to tell me the truth.”

  “What makes you think I haven’t told the truth? I’ve turned over an ass-load of data backing up my allegations.”

  “Call it the whole truth, then. You’ve left some details out of your story.”

  I shrugged at him, doing my best to seem nonplussed. “You’ll have to fill me in on the missing bits.”

  “All right.” Roberts tapped the table again, pursing his lips. “I saw an interesting piece of video last week. Four women with unusual hair colors, shopping at a thrift store a few miles from your house. They have an altercation with a very short-tempered couple before leaving the store. Fifteen minutes later, the couple dies in a gaming store across the street. Both of the deceased were participating in your drug trial.”

  “I recall the news story. It’s one of the reasons I went public. What’s your point?”

  “There’s no record of two of the women from the thrift store. One comes up on a California driver’s license from the 1960s. The fourth is your girlfriend, Rose Drake.”

  “I said that attack was one of the reasons I decided to go public. Rose and the others were terrified when they got home. After the rest of the story came out, I decided I had to do something. Rose had nothing to do with those
two getting killed, but the media will still be all over her if this gets out.”

  “That’s understandable. That also gives you additional cause for confronting Dr. Page. You called him, told him you were blaming the drug trial for those two attacking Rose, and then you gave him his choice.”

  I sighed. The only way out was to try to minimize the damage. “Yes. The incident at the thrift store was the last straw. I told Grover I had him cold, and suggested he try to make a deal.”

  “That’s a noble gesture, and one that may have felt morally right, but it was stupid of you to do it. Still, you’re right—it’s what the Doctor would have done.”

  I nodded. “Exactly right. I don’t really care if you approve, but I’m glad you understand.”

  “What was his response?”

  “He offered to make me wealthy. I turned him down.” I spread my hands. “My mother doesn’t have long to live. I didn’t want her last weeks to be tainted by me selling out. And that’s the truth.”

  “Did he say anything else you haven’t mentioned?”

  I stood up and went to look out the window, staring down at the tiny folks scurrying along the 16th Street Mall. “Yes. He offered to cure my mother’s cancer. He seemed pretty sure he could do it.” I turned around and added, “The man who killed Grover Page was named Ingrim Thain. He was an undead necromancer, possibly a priest of Anubis, and probably not from Earth. His physical form was destroyed last night. I believe his essence was destroyed at the same time, but there is a chance he might still exist in some form.”

  “How dangerous would you say he is?”

  I met his eyes. “He can raise an army of the dead. How dangerous is that?”

  “I see.” Roberts stood up and slid a card across the table. It was blank except for an 800 number. “Don’t mention anything we discussed in this room. Stick to your story. Call me if anything else happens.”

  I took the card and put it in my wallet. “So, are you really FBI, or what? Men in Black? International Rescue?”

  “FBI, but in this case I’m also an ‘or what’.” He placed his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn it. “I keep track of unusual events involving young ladies with odd-colored hair.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You profile women who dye their hair?”

  He shook his head. “No. I look for women who don’t need dye.” He smiled and cocked his head to the side. “It’s amazing how many young ladies matching that description have been recorded selling gold coins, jewelry, gems, and uncut precious stones. Sometimes, young ladies like that get careless, and count on people simply forgetting what they saw. Sometimes, young ladies like that need help. Sometimes, the people they’re attached to need help. That’s where I and a few others like me come in. We’re here to help.”

  “Why would you help me?”

  Roberts looked off to the side for a moment. “I dated the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known while I was going to college. She had dark red hair, streaked with metallic gold. My wife once loved a woman with emerald green hair. We’re together because we can talk about them, because we accept we’ll always be in love with those women, and because we keep the same secrets for these women.

  “As wonderful as they are, they’re arrogant. They’re forgetful, and they don’t respect what we are capable of. They make mistakes, and when that happens, somebody has to clean up the mess. I’m one of those somebodies.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I’m glad to know you’re out there if we need you. However, Loseitall has nothing to do with them. This mess is not of their making. Sorry.”

  “No matter,” he said. “That number will reach me any time, day or night, if you need to tell me something.” He opened the door and shook my hand. “Thank you for your time.”

  “My pleasure.” I released his hand. “Take care, Agent Roberts.”

  “John Roberts is just a name on some paper,” he replied. “Call me Ishmael.” He shrugged his coat on and headed for the elevators.

  Watching him walk away, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. I’d never thought about what life would be like after Rose left. The truth is, I’d been programmed not to. The Dragons had worked out all possible scenarios and taken steps to counter them long ago. The logical thing to do when a Dragoness’ time on Earth was over would be to wipe her Human lover’s memory, and command them never to speak of what they’d learned. They didn’t do that because they wanted us to maintain a sense of wonder. That was the theory, anyway.

  So, there was a survivor’s club, and it was something the Dragons hadn’t anticipated. I filed that realization away for later exploration. In the meantime, my lawyer had some people from the NIH who wanted to ask me a few more questions. I grabbed a fresh cup of three-hour-old coffee and followed them into the conference room.

  When I got home, Rose had a stack of messages from the news media, and a repair crew replacing our front window. One of my beloved coworkers had delivered a death threat wrapped around a brick. The police had a description of the car and were following up.

  I also had multiple messages from my family, and one message from Carlos Cabeza de la Vaca, chairman of the board and CEO. My family just wanted to know how I was doing. Maybe after talking to Carlos I might have a better answer.

  Carlos picked his cell phone up on the second ring. “I have to say, David, you’ve made a lot of people very unhappy today. I was one of them, but at this point I think you may have saved the company. The news about Grover Page… The idea that someone killed him, took over his life, and had authority over our product… The idea terrifies me. It terrified the board.”

  “It was pretty upsetting for me, too.” I sighed. “Does the board have any news I need to know about?”

  “Yes. They’ve approved an early retirement offer for you. We don’t want to lose you, but it would, well, resolve several issues for the company. Of course, any separation would be your decision. All terms of your separation would be sealed. I’ll send the formal package to your lawyer in the morning. Look it over, talk to your family. Give us an answer as soon as you can.”

  “What if I decide to keep working?”

  “Nothing. No retaliation, but no protection if we have a reduction in force. Which we will.”

  “Fine,” I said. “So, answer one question for me. How much did you know already?”

  “Two incidents had been reported, but both involved other factors. One was using bath salts, and the other had a history of violence. There was no conclusive link to our trial. Once we saw your queries, we knew something else was going on, so we initiated the lockdown.”

  “All right.” I looked at Rose and smiled. “Email the details to me tonight. My girlfriend is a Dragon. If she likes the numbers, then I’ll listen to my lawyer.”

  “A Dragon, huh? That’s cool. My ex is one of those killer robots. Whenever I go to pick up the kids, she starts screaming ‘Cas-ter-ate! Cas-ter-ate!’ Anyway, I’ll get the offer to you in a few minutes.” Carlos paused and added, “It’s been nice working with you, David. Good luck.”

  I called my folks while Rose reviewed the numbers. Mom was not sounding good, and I started feeling increasingly guilty about turning down Thain’s offer. Shut up. It was a bullshit offer anyway.

  Right on cue, her maternal superpowers kicked in. “What’s going on, David? I can tell you’re thinking about me. No sad thoughts, young man.”

  “I’m not sad. This is anger. This guy made a stupid comment and I’m trying to move past it. It’s just…not easy.” I fell silent, but Mom out-silenced me. “He offered to cure you if I looked the other way while he hurt a lot of innocent people. And, yeah, I think he could have done it. I told him to piss off.”

  Mom said, “Good. If you’d given in, I’d have smacked your backside till you couldn’t sit down. You do what’s right and don’t worry about me. Never let anyone use me against you, ever.”

  “Did you hear the part about actually being able to do it?”

  “I did, and my
answer is still no. No fate but what I make for myself, David. If it comes up again, remember that. No fate but what I make.”

  “I know. I’m in the same situation. I got offered early retirement tonight. Time to choose my fate, I guess. Rose is looking over the numbers now.” As I said that, Rose flashed me a thumbs-up. “Rose says the numbers are good. I’ll run it past my lawyer tomorrow. If he signs off, I think I’ll take it.”

  “If Rose likes it, you’re probably set. Let me know what happens.”

  I promised I would and we said our goodbyes. The next day, on advice from my lawyer, I drove into the office, signed more papers, and turned over my work computer. The security guards escorting me off the property wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

  For the first two days of my retirement, I tried keeping an eye out for any news reports that might indicate where Thain had gotten off to. That turned out to be useless, so I spent the third day watching more Japanese game shows. Over dinner, Rose gave me a gentle smile and said, “Find something to do with yourself before I tail-whip you into next week.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I haven’t had centuries to master the art of graceful indolence, or get my degree in competitive napping.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting anything as advanced as that,” Rose replied. “I was thinking you might want spend some time in church.”

  “That certainly came out of nowhere.” I set my fork down. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “The monastery of Stonewall is open to all races. The monks teach basic fighting skills to anyone who asks. You could spend a few months there and really learn something about using a sword.”

  “Stonewall, eh? I suppose that’s a good, Dwarven name.” I shook my head. “It sounds tempting, but I’m not too bad with a sword as it is.”

  Rose smiled and patted my hand. “You’re very good at fighting other unskilled people using heavy sticks. You’ve got enough skill for Kindness to work with. I’m talking about actual skill, training with a war priest. How many people in that Society of yours would leap at the chance?”