Chrono Inquisitor (Gods Be Damned)

by Rien Reigns

  “Yes, sir,” Jacobin said. He shot me a ‘ha, ha, fuck you’ smile, and then went to help Hawthorn.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I should’ve known she was too good to be true. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy killing these pricks. Thinking they can play me like that.

  ‹I remind you. Currently, you do not have legal justification for killing or harming Mr. Van Horne, or anyone else, other than Mr. Lachlan, that is.›

  ‹“Fucking hell, I don’t, I know this asshole was behind everything and nearly got me killed.”›

  ‹Mr. Van Horne was not present at the attack. Also, from the look of things, he has apprehended Mr. Lachlan for you. So far, he has broken no laws, while technically, you broke five during this immature quest for payback.›

  ‹“This is all that fucking lawyer’s fault. After I made him shit his pants this morning, he ran to Van Horne and set this whole thing up. I’ve been played like a fucking fiddle. I can’t just leave now, otherwise he wins. I need to figure out how to salvage this cluster fuck.”›

  “All right then,” I said. “Let’s talk business. I’ll have a glass of your best whiskey. If that’s not a problem?” I said with a forced smile, then made my way to the couch.

  I needed a drink to clear my mind and not feel like such a fool. What was I thinking wearing these robes? I should have let the Horsemen deal with this prick.

  “Of course it isn’t a problem. You’re a guest, and my guests deserve the very best.”

  Van Horne went to the bar and returned with a tray containing a bottle of Yamazaki 64 Year Old Single Malt, two glasses, a decanter of water, and two cigars. He placed the tray on the table and sat down opposite me. He then poured and handed me a glass. Then poured himself one.

  “Now where were we?” he said, as he diluted the whiskey a bit. “Ah, yes. You see, I had an appointment with Mr. Thrass earlier this morning, but he failed to show. Now the way I understand it, an associate of mine, who knew about my meeting with Mr. Thrass, saw him enter a bar around the time we were supposed to be sitting down for our get together.”

  Van Horne grabbed a cigar, cut it, and presented it to me.

  What the hell, why not.

  I accepted it and rolled it in my fingers, admiring its coloration and feel. It was when I raised it to my nose to take a whiff, that I realized I’d have to remove my Death-mask in order to drink or smoke anything. With my free hand, I did so.

  Van Horne smiled, handed me a box of matches, and continued his tale.

  “Shortly after entering the bar, I’m told that Mr. Thrass exited it with an unidentified individual, who forced into a plumber’s pod. I’m told that this associate of mine, who is also a friend of Mr. Thrass, thought Paxton was being unlawfully detained. So, being concerned about the wellbeing of his friend, he then gathered together a couple other friends to stage a rescue.”

  Van Horne had cut and lit his own cigar while talking, and paused to take a puff.

  I did the same and let the smoke fill my mouth and tickle my tongue. The taste of the cigar was wonderful. I picked up my glass and took a sip. Treating the whiskey like a fine wine, I swished it around in my mouth, inhaled just a little, letting my taste buds detect the notes of the fine liquor. Carmel wrapped in smoke, kissed by a peach and fucked by vanilla, made love to my tongue. I was in heaven.

  I should be a guest of the devil more often.

  “Mr. Lachlan, there,” Van Horne continued, and pointed his cigar at the confined man. “Once he heard that you were an Inquisitor, well, he ran back to town and sought me out, seeking advice on what to do. He told me what happened and I contacted my lawyers for legal advice. Realizing that Mr. Lachlan had attacked you and was therefore a fugitive, and that anyone who helped him would be an accessory to the crime, I detained him. I was attempting to get ahold of you in order to turn him over to your custody when you came to me.”

  This guy is fucking good. No wonder he owns this city.

  Just then there was knock at the door and two unknown men entered carrying a chest.

  “Ah, perfect timing,” Van Horne said. “Bring that over here.”

  The two men brought the chest over and set it at the end of the table.

  “After I heard what happened out in the desert, I sent some of my more trustworthy associates to make sure you and Mr. Thrass were all right. By the time they got there, you two were gone, but they found these. I had my men collect them for you so I could turn them over with Mr. Lachlan.”

  The men opened the chest. Inside was my Maelstrom, my cube, my aɪs, and my Glock.

  “What about the friends of Thrass that we left behind?” I asked.

  No longer needed, the men made their way out, leaving me and their master alone again.

  “It’s such a tragedy what misunderstandings can lead to,” Van Horne said, and took a sip of his whiskey. “I believe the local authorities have taken care of the corpses.”

  “Thank you for returning these, my boss would have killed me had I lost them.”

  “I’m just glad I could help after what happened. I understand you and Mr. Thrass were injured and had to seek baptisms.”

  Just had to bring that up again. Spitting and rubbing it in.

  “We did,” I said, and took more than a sip of the whiskey.

  “I actually own the facility y’all used, and as a sign of good intentions, I’ve had the charges you accumulated while there, transferred to my account.”

  “While that’s very generous of you, it’s completely unnecessary.”

  “Please, it’s the least I can do. Let me try to right some of the wrongs which have occurred today.”

  Why not. It was his fault after all. Wait a sec, that gives me an idea.

  “Speaking of righting wrongs,” I said. “Forgive me for ruining your fine establishment. I was gravely mistaken in thinking you had anything to do with what happened earlier. Here.” I reached into my robes.

  Tell me I have one in here.

  ‹Compartment 7.›

  I produced a credit chip. I extended it to Van Horne. “Please put all charges for the repairs on my account.”

  Van Horne puffed on his cigar and didn’t take it.

  “Please, don’t trouble yerself over that. It was completely understandable under the circumstances. The place is insured, and to be honest, I’ve been thinking about remodeling it for quite some time. Ya did me a favor.”

  “Wow, that’s some insurance policy you got. I didn’t think there were any which covered Inquisitor collateral.”

  “Hmm, that’s a good point,” Van Horne said, and puffed on his cigar. “While it may not specifically say that it does cover such a thing, I am fairly certain that it does not specifically preclude such a thing either. Anyway, that’s an issue for my lawyers to figure out. Which is why I pay them even more.”

  I puffed on my cigar.

  ‹Since you are looking for excuses to transfer money to Mr. Van Horne, there is the matter of Mr. Lachlan. Mr. Van Horne is due a reward for turning over a fugitive.›

  “Speaking of lawyers,” I said. “Could you apologize to Mr. Jacobin for me? We had a misunderstanding this morning and I believe I made a bad first impression.”

  “I’d be happy to. I guess that means you won’t be sticking around much longer?”

  “No, unfortunately not. I’ve got an assignment in Texas to get to, which is where I was headed when Mr. Thrass and I had a misunderstanding with some of his friends and your associates. Speaking of which, I want to thank you for capturing Mr. Lachlan for me. It seems I owe you a reward.”

  “A reward?” Van Horne asked, and took a sip of his whiskey.

  “Mr. Lachlan was wanted for attacking an Inquisitor. It hadn’t been made public yet, but there was a reward for information leading to his capture, and since you outright captured him for me, the reward is yours.”

  “Why that’s very generous of you, but I’m going to have to decline. I’ve never been a proponent of rewards. People shouldn’t have to be
rewarded for doing the right thing, it should be its own reward.”

  Oh please, I think I’m going to vomit.

  “That’s a good point,” I said. “It sort of goes along with my beliefs about tattletales and snitching. Adults tell children not to tattle, but then we wonder why no one speaks out or does the right thing when they see something bad happen. And if they do, we call them finks, snitches, and narcs. We think less of them for doing what’s right. I must say, it’s good to see a man of your position taking such a stance and being a role model. The world needs more people like you, Derrik.”

  “That’s very kind of you to say.”

  ‹“Kali, are you absolutely sure I can’t put a bullet between this asshole’s eyes?”›

  ‹Technically you can, but it would not be legal for you to do so and you would then have to suffer the consequences.›

  It just might be worth it.

  “There is one last matter of business before I go. I understand that Mr. Thrass took a personal loan from you a few months ago.”

  Van Horne sighed and took a sip of whiskey. “It’s sad to see someone so young struggling like he has. Yes, I did loan him some money a few months back. He’d just been released from jail for stealing and he couldn’t afford to pay his premiums. I learned about his predicament from one of my non-profits that’s dedicated to helping reform misguided youths. He’d tried to get a loan by normal means, but due to his history he wasn’t able to secure one. I felt sorry for the young man since he has a child. Are you married, or have any children, Inquisitor?”

  “Divorced. No kids.” That I’m aware of.

  “Sorry to hear that. I have a son and two daughters myself, and I’ve been married to my lovely wife for forty-six years.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Of course we didn’t start having children until we were almost forty. We wanted to make sure they’d have a secure future before we brought them into this world.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “Yes, well, it just breaks my heart to see someone so young as Mr. Thrass with a child of his own and not even married.”

  “As it does mine, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to take him under my wing and see what I can do for him. What I’m offering you is to repay his loan, in full, here and now.”

  “Why that’s very generous of you, Inquisitor. I just hope that I didn’t make you feel obligated to do so. I’d hate myself if that were the case.”

  “Be assured, it was my intention all along to repay Paxton’s loan.”

  “Very well.” Van Horne reached out like he was finally going to accept the credit chip. But then he hesitated. “I just feel horrible that I’ve failed in my attempts to turn him around, as I’m sure you’re now aware of as witnessed by the company he kept. But even more than that, I’d feel even worse in burdening you with someone as problematic as Mr. Thrass. He may be beyond redemption.”

  “Maybe he is, but how will I know if I don’t try?”

  “Yes, good point. Hmmm, may I make a recommendation?”

  “Such as?”

  “As I mentioned earlier, my non-profit deals with dozens of individuals, and there are plenty of young men and women who are far more stable and trustworthy than Mr. Thrass, and who might suit you better.”

  Oh, you are good. Trying to plant one of your lackies in among the Inquisitors. Sure would look good in your ledger. Almost as if you have an Inquisitor on your payroll.

  “You are too kind. Though your offer is enticing, Mr. Thrass is the man I need. Debts, faults, and all.”

  “In that case, may I offer one final bit of advice?”

  “You may.”

  “Don’t let Mr. Thrass off the hook. He’s been given a lot of free passes in his short life, and I fear that’s it’s only reinforced his bad behavior. I believe I failed him in being too lenient. He should be made to pay back his debts one way or another.”

  “I completely agree. This isn’t an act of charity, I fully intend for him to pay his dues.”

  Van Horne nodded and finally took the credit chip. “You’re a business man after my own heart.”

  I smiled and hoped it didn’t look too fake.

  At least I’d finally gotten Van Horne to take the money. Of course I’d strong armed it and he’d obviously caught on to what I was trying to do. The man wasn’t stupid, but then again, sometimes how a person doesn’t spend their money is just as telling as how they do spend it.

  Under the customs of polite society, I should have stayed until the cigar was exhausted, but that would have taken hours and I would have either killed Van Horne or myself before the last ash fell.

  With a multitude of sickening apologies, I said farewell, and as I exited Hyde’s Ice Creamery & Sweets, I swore to myself, making it a Priority One, flashing red recall, that I’d be back to Pueblo, and that Mr. Van Horne was going to learn what a real Inquisition was all about. Old school Catholic Church style.

  On my way back to the pad I arranged for the Cleaners to collect Lachlan.

  Upon entering, I found my own Glock pointed at me.

  “Jesus,” Paxton said, lowering the weapon. “What the hell happened? You were gone for nearly an hour. I almost went in after you a half dozen times, but my CerA kept reminding me that you said you’d call if you needed me. I swear, another ten minutes and I was going in. So, did you kill Van Horne?”

  I shook my head. Now it was time for Paxton to think me a fool. “It seems I’ve gone and made a deal with devil as well.”

  Paxton looked at me as if he thought I was joking, but then asked, “Are you serious?”

  I nodded reluctantly. “Yes, but at least you’re free from your contract with him.”

  “I don’t get it?”

  “I paid your debts. That was the deal.”

  “Why didn’t you kill him, or at the very least arrest him?”

  “That’s just it, I couldn’t. I fucking wanted to blow his brains out. Him and all his lawyers. But I had no legal justification to do anything to him. He played everything by the book. Even gave me Lachlan. Why didn’t you warn me Van Horne is actually Satan himself?”

  “I did warn you,” Paxton said.

  “Well you did a shitty ass job.”

  “So now what?” he asked.

  “First, I get out of these ridiculous robes. Then it’s off to Texas we go. And since I held up my end of the bargain, now it’s your turn.”

  Part 2: A Murderous Quest

  12: Shooting Star

  I stripped out of my robes. Thought about incinerating the damn things so I wouldn’t be stupid enough to ever consider wearing them again. But I didn’t. I just tossed’em back into the closet.

  Then I set up the guest hammock for Paxton.

  Cigar and firework smoke, as well as artificial fog clung to my skin. It wasn’t a pleasant combination of smells so I opted to take a shower before hitting the sack. I made it hotter than usual. I think subconsciously I wanted to wash/burn away the taint of compromising with Van Horne.

  When I’d finished I didn’t feel any cleaner. At least I smelled better. Paxton was already asleep. He sure was setting a lot of precedents with me. No one had ever spent the night in my pad without pleasuring me first.

  I climbed in to my own hammock and was soon whisked away to the land of mixed up memories and altered realities.

  I dreamt of a landscape cast in monochrome gray. Of clouds rising up from the world and then smothering the surface in black snow. A bitter cold slapped me in the face and it burned.

  In the blink of an eye the snow melted and became a flooding river of red. Time was in overdrive. I stood transfixed and watched the blood water reshape everything. Whole cities disappeared. The earth opened its mouth and consumed the blood. Things turned back to normal. At once the world was no longer gray with rivers of red, it had become an oasis of lush greens.

  I was happy. Content. Skies turned blue again.

  Bu
t it didn’t last. Nothing ever does. Things turned black. Darkness ascended until all light was focused into a pinprick barely visible in the shadows. I couldn’t see anything as if I’d gone blind. Emptiness was all there was. Nothing was everything.

  I awoke in a panic. My heart felt as if it were clutched within death’s cold grip. Things were still black. I couldn’t see. I feared the dream wasn’t imaginary. That I had indeed gone blind.

  But then the darkness gave way to an increasing glow. My pad slowly manifested itself in my vision.

  Kali had simply turned off the lights once she’d detected Paxton and I were both asleep. Now that I was awake, she was turning them on just enough for me to see. Normally she wouldn’t have unless I’d asked, but she did so because of my agitated state.

  ‹“Kali,”› I said in my mind, not wanting to wake Paxton.

 

  ‹“Do the mytes record my dreams?”›

 

  ‹“I guess I should have figured that. What do you know about dreams? You don’t sleep, right? You’re always on, sorting and cataloguing my life – my dreams.”›

 

  ‹“Why was he transferred?”› I interrupted. ‹“Why did they shut down his research?”›