Chrono Inquisitor (Gods Be Damned)

by Rien Reigns

  “Kali, what is the #2 resort on this continent?”

  ‹That would be The Regency.›

  That name. I knew it somehow, and it wasn’t just because of its status.

  “Kali, why does that sound so familiar?”

  ‹It is probably because that was the resort Sam’s firm was working on when the two of you parted ways.›

  Damn it, I think I’ve been set up.

  “Kali, what is the likelihood of me running into Sam during this assignment?”

  ‹It is almost a certainty. Sam is a shareholder of the resort and maintains a permanent residence there. Her firm has also been working with Mr. Beit’s on the design of the new capital, of which The Regency is hosting the conference of its public unveiling this week.›

  Damn it, Frank. What the hell are you up to?

  Just when I was going to have Kali contact Frank to tell him the charade was up, I got distracted by a beauty to behold.

  She easily stood out among the several dozen citizens who were mulling about, going to and fro, undertaking the various menial errands of their everyday lives.

  Every single one of them was trying so hard to look different from anyone else, with all of them together, it was a damn eyesore. With all their colors and insane styles of dressing, it was like an ugly painting brought to life. Half of them were in costumes of sorts. I couldn’t recall when the practice had become fashionable. Halloween was practically every day. Just without the candy and tricks.

  Most were unworthy of even a glance, but one woman in particular drew my attention. So much so, I removed my shades just so I could see her better.

  She was the perfect proportions of thin, athletic, and yet still curvy enough with some meat on her bones. She wore sandals and a long white linen skirt which waved in the wind as she walked. Nothing adorned her above the waist save a silver necklace, hanging between her bare breasts. Her long, curly, reddish blonde hair trailed behind her, and in the reflected sunlight her hair looked like fire dancing on a beach at sunset. The tips of her locks were like fingers composed of flame, enticing and beckoning a person to follow.

  She was the epitome of an urban nymph - those women who lure men, and other women, into their domain and take those poor wayward souls for all they’re worth. She radiated sensuality and I gave half a mind to follow her.

  I was instantly hard. It’d been days since I’d had a good fuck.

  I stood there, just outside the diner, staring as she continued on down the road. It wasn’t until she turned a corner stepping out of sight that the spell became broken, allowing me to return to my senses.

  I heard shouts coming from the opposite direction. I turned and saw a mass of citizens marching down the street directly towards me, yelling at the top of their lungs a multitude of slogans which were also on signs they were carrying.

  “Jesus loves you! Repent! Salvation is yours! Exorcise the demons INSIDE you! Remove the TECH! Baptisms by GOD, not by Richards!”

  Blah, blah, blah.

  I wondered if my actions earlier had sparked this mob.

  Not wanting to find out, I turned away and went to get in my pad. It wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “Kali, where is my pad?”

  ‹There is no parking allowed on any streets in this area. It is currently in a parking garage several blocks away.›

  So much for the day getting better.

  I contemplated standing my ground against the oncoming manifestation of my antithesis, but decided a drink was a more worthy cause.

  “Kali, get me a list of open establishments of spirits and make it quick.”

  Without waiting for her response I started walking in the same direction the mob was heading. The same direction the woman had gone. Maybe if I hurried I could catch up to her. I picked up the pace.

  Within a few footfalls, a list of open bars and gentleman’s clubs appeared on the lens of my aɪ-ware. I scanned the stats on each as I briskly walked to the alley the woman had turned down.

  “Hey, mister,” someone shouted behind me.

  Not wanting to be disturbed in any way I extracted my Nobility badge from inside the vault and affixed it to the front, openly displaying it for all the world to see.

  I wasn’t of noble birth, not by any means. I had one though, because it raised a lot less questions than my CI badge. I realized then that had I pretended to be Nobility back in the diner, I probably would have gotten what I wanted without any lip. Actually, I probably would have gotten the kind of lip I did like. The kind wrapped around my dick.

  Oh well, what was done was done, and there would always be more opportunities to use my position and all its perks in the future.As I made my way to where I’d last seen the woman, civilians parted before me like I was Moses before the Red Sea. Those citizens who weren’t completely distracted by their own aɪ-ware, and even those who were, were notified to make way for me by their CerAs. They were more than willing to step out of my way in order to avoid the potential wrath of a noble.

  “Yo, mister, wait up,” that same voice shouted again.

  I turned briefly and saw the man from the diner I had audited, waving in my direction as he tried to catch up.

  What the hell did he want? I wondered.

  I looked back towards the alley. I was so close. I ignored the lowly man and kept walking at a brisk pace.

  When I turned the corner the woman had taken, I found it to be a dead end. There were a few doors leading into each of the buildings which formed the alley, but I had no idea which one she had used. Unfortunately, she’d been too far away for Kali to ping her Chrono. Not that I had even asked her to.

  Damn.

  I turned to leave and found myself face to face with the man in the coveralls.

  “You need to get out of town asap, mister,” he said.

  “Is that a threat?” I asked.

  The man held up his hands. “No, sir. But that man you had an argument with back in the diner, he was the wrong guy to piss off.”

  I laughed. “I wasn’t afraid of him then, and I’m still not.”

  “It’s not him you should be afraid of. It’s who he works for.”

  “Oh really?” I said. “And who does he work for?”

  “Van Horne.” The man said with a look like I should know who that is and be shaking in my boots.

  “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Derrik Van Horne,” the man said with more emphasis. As if a first name would suddenly make the non-existent lights come on.

  I shook my head.

  “Derrik ‘the Devil’ Van Horne. The devil of Pueblo. He only owns half the city. That guy back there, that’s one of his lawyers.”

  A devil, huh. What does an Inquisitor fear? This guy is telling me the devil.

  “So what?” I said.

  “You really don’t know or even care?” He said, astonished.

  “Why should I?” I shrugged.

  “Are you really an Inquisitor?” he asked, catching me off guard.

  “Look, it’s been a rough morning, and I could use drink. You can either buy me one, and maybe I’ll let you explain why I should care who that guy works for, or, you can move along and mind your own damn business.”

  “A drink, I’ll buy you a drink,” the man said enthusiastically.

  Was this some sort of game? Did he send that message? Wait a sec, I thought. That’s not possible. This guy was in the diner before me, and there’s no way he could have known who I was beforehand, and there’s certainly no way he could have known what was going to happen between me and that lawyer.

  What the hell. A free drink is well… free.

  I nodded and motioned the man to lead the way.

  He started to speak but I told him to be silent until there was a drink in my hand.

  Deciding to be productive, and trying to glean any validity to my supposed assignment, I brought up the vitals of the case I was going to be investigating. I’d almost brought up the stats on whoever this Van Horne fella i
s, but figured the man would tell me when we got to the bar.

  The information of the case and Mr. Beit came up on my aɪs.

  NAME: Julius Illiam (Orrik) Beit

  REAL AGE: 87

  APPARENT AGE: 40

  HAIR: Brown

  EYES: Blue

  HEIGHT: 183 cm (6’ 0”)

  WEIGHT: 80 kg (176 lbs.)

  FITZPATRICK SKIN TYPE: 3

  OCCUPATION: Co-owner of Social Arches Urban Engineering and Design – Municipal and Urban Design Engineer

  I sifted through photos, interviews, lectures, financials, everything Frank had sent me, and then some.

  Forget the Pope, this guy was as clean as Mr. Richards himself.

  Wait a sec, I thought. Could this be what that weird message was about? Maybe the fink in the message was the one who pointed the finger at Beit. And if he was lying, was the other person Frank? But what did the rest of it mean? What was I supposed to protect? ‘Protect what you’ve sowed,’ that’s what the message had said. Sow your wild oats was an old expression. Damn, that’d turned into a long list. I didn’t even have names for half of them. Wait. Sam! If she was going to be with Beit, was I supposed to protect her? Yeah right. More like she’d be protecting my ass.

  I’d gotten so caught up in reviewing the case, it was nearly eighteen minutes and approximately two kilometers later when the man and I reached the door of a place called The Shady Day Saloon. No longer wanting the prestige and to be noticed I removed the badge from the front of my jacket and put it away. Kali automatically ceased notifying others of my false elite status.

  Crossing the threshold UV lights bathed my body in a cleansing light.

  Stupid fucks, that’s what the mytes were for.

  I inhaled. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a recreational fume in the air. In addition, it was far too fucking bright, even with my aɪs on.

  Shady my ass. I might as well have walked into a Methuselah Center.

  From the look of things the only alcohol they used in the place would be of the sort to sterilize the surgical steel counters. I shook my head and was seriously contemplated leaving.

  “What the fuck kind of place is this?” I asked.

  He smiled uneasily. “It’s a Purity bar.”

  “What kind of game are you playing, boy?”

  “Like I said, Van Horne owns half the city. This is the only place I could think of that wouldn’t have any of his demons.”

  “You’re kidding right?”

  “Are you really an Inquisitor?” he asked again.

  “You want answers? Well so do I and I better have an alcoholic beverage in my hand in under a minute, otherwise I’m leaving.”

  The man went to the counter and ordered something.

  I looked around and went to a booth with black leather cushions. At least I didn’t have to argue with anyone here on where I sat. The place was practically empty.

  The man returned with a pitcher of beer and two glasses.

  “Beer. You brought me beer?” I shook my head.

  “They don’t serve anything above 10% alcohol. It was either beer or wine. Do you want me to get wine instead?”

  I sighed. “The beer is fine.”

  Heaven help me.

  ‹“Kali, who the hell is this guy?”›

  Since Kali had already pinged the man’s Chrono she instantly brought up his stats.

  NAME: Paxton Jackson Thrass

  REAL AGE: 19

  APPARENT AGE: Actual

  HAIR: Brown

  EYES: Brown

  HEIGHT: 178 cm (5’ 10”)

  WEIGHT: 75 kg (165 lbs.)

  FITZPATRICK SKIN TYPE: 4

  OCCUPATION: Sanitation laborer - Pueblo, CO

  ADDRESS: 2863 Olson Road #213, Q-Avondale, CO

  *CRIMINAL RECORD: 2 counts larceny. On parole. Review 2115. Sentencing – Judge David Barr

  “Well, well, well, would you look at that, two strikes already and on parole. One more screw up and it’s indentured servitude for you. If you think you’re going to steal from me, you might as well bend over and get it over with.”

  Paxton poured a glass and handed it to me.

  Some alcohol is better than no alcohol, I guess.

  “No way would I even think of stealing from you. I need your help,” he said.

  “I thought you were trying to help me? I thought this little powwow was supposed to be about some devil.”

  Paxton poured himself a glass. I took a sip of mine.

  I hated beer.

  “It is,” Paxton said. “Like I said back on the street, that man you met at the diner is one of Van Horne’s lawyers. He’s part of the Demon Legion - Van Horne’s gang. You pissed him off, which means you’ve inadvertently pissed off Van Horne. You don’t fuck with any of Van Horne’s guys and get away with it.”

  “Is that right? Let’s see if I understand the situation, shall we? Because I made one of Van Horne’s bitches wet his pants, by proxy I made Van Horne wet his?”

  The man laughed and spit some of his beer on the table. “I would love to see that,” he said.

  “Thanks for the warning kid, but I’m leaving town anyway.”

  “Take me with you.”

  I nearly spit my beer on the table.

  “Did you just ask for me to take you with me?”

  “Please? If you really are an Inquisitor, you’re the only hope I got.”

  “Hope of what?”

  “Getting away from Van Horne.”

  “Ah, I see what’s going on now. You’re one of his bitches, and let me guess, you’re looking for a new master? Sorry, kid, I ain’t buying.”

  “Please? Just take me to wherever you’re going and leave me there. Any place is better than here.”

  I took another drink, grimaced, and figured it wasn’t worth finishing. I got up to leave.

  With lightning speed the man reached out and tried to take something from one of my pockets.

  But I was quick too and managed to grab his wrist before it’d left my pocket. “Careful,” I said, squeezing hard. “Wrists are rather fragile. Wouldn’t want it to break now would we?”

  My smart-assed self couldn’t help himself, I kept going. “What would you do with the tool of your trade out of operation? Could you afford the premium to get it fixed I wonder?”

  I squeezed harder and twisted his wrist a little. Felt a smile manipulate my face. I watched the man’s eyes and caught the flicker of gears turning. Soon enough, tears started to pool in them. “Please, have mercy,” he pleaded. He was good. He actually sounded genuine and not like he was simply trying to get out of his current predicament.

  “Kali,” I said. “Resume probing Mr. Thrass’s Chrono for anomalies.”

  ‹Auditing resumed.›

  Tears streamed down Paxton’s cheeks, which brought to my mind an image of a waterfall.

  And then I was physically in front of that waterfall. Mr. Thrass and the rest of the bar were gone, replaced by the sound of falling water cascading over the side of a mountain. A pine forest, flowers, nature, life, filled my nasal passages.

  “What the-”

  And then I was back in the sterilized steel bar, the smell of human funk festering in my nose.

  I coughed.

  Throughout the hallucination I’d managed to keep hold of Paxton’s wrist. I looked around still a little fazed from my momentary break in reality.

  ‹“Kali, what the fuck just happened? Am I going crazy, or was I just in front of a waterfall for a few seconds?”›

  ‹There was a malfunction with one of the Mnemosyne-mytes. It terminated itself and exploded. The release of energy stimulated your neural pathways. Because you were thinking of a waterfall at that exact moment, it triggered a memory.›

  ‹“That wasn’t just a fucking memory, it was like I was literally there. Memories aren’t that detailed.”›

  ‹You are correct. I am sorry, sir. I was attempting to simplify what happened for your understanding. I have
failed. Would you like me to give you a detailed explanation of what occurred?›

  Paxton, seeing I was distracted, tried again to pull free.

  ‹“Never mind, we’ll discuss it later. Set a Priority Two recall for the conversation.”›

  ‹Recall set.›

  I turned my attention back to Paxton, and shook my head.

  “I have a family,” Paxton pleaded. It didn’t quite sound like an genuine plea, more like a simple statement of fact.

  Goddamn breeders. I thought about beating him with the bible just for trying to play that lame ass card.

  Rather than following through with the thought I replied, “And were you thinking of them when you decided to try and Houdini my cube?”

  He said nothing.

  With his free hand Paxton straightened his shirt and lowered his head, having played his trump card.

  Praise the Lords of Lucidity, Hallelujah! I half suspected he was going to play every ‘pity me’ card ever dreamed up and go on all day.

  I looked the man I still held in my grasp up and down and gave an ever so slight nod of approval. I hated any man who didn’t own up to his actions. The change in his attitude and demeanor boosted his standing in my opinion.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? I’d already identified you. Not to mention I’d warned you not to pull a stunt like that,” I said, giving Paxton a look that demanded an honest answer.

  “I need you to take me with you,”

  He seemed serious. Like he was so afraid of this Van Horne guy that he’d steal from an Inquisitor and risk getting sold into servitude. Or worse.

  Remembering we weren’t alone I looked around the bar with an unsettling glare at the other patrons. A few heads quickly turned back to the drinks in front of them, while the other half dozen patrons knew their place and were eavesdropping by audio only. Either that, or they simply didn’t give a shit about anyone other than themselves.

  Loud enough for everyone to hear, I announced, “I think an Inquisition is in order. By the authority of the Unified Republics of North America, under Public Law 127-13, I hereby place Paxton Jackson Thrass under arrest for attempted theft and for further investigation into possible Chrono/myte tampering.”

  I looked over the place again but this time none of the nosey shit sacks dared look our way.