Zero Sum

by B. Justin Shier

  “Monique just got word from DEA Command. Talmax just launched an attack on our leynode in Salt Lake.” He swallowed. “Our forces are outnumbered. They don’t think they can last the night.”

  +

  Monique clicked in over the line: “Okay, sound check.”

  We chimed in one-by-one. When it was my turn, I pressed my ear gently. That pressure activated the microphone.

  “Dieter here, loud and clear.”

  Jules and Dante did the same and we headed into the Over the Top. It was a good thing we didn’t bring any weapons. The security was absurd. They even confiscated Jules’ chapstick. (The nerve of some people.) After getting screened, Jules, Dante, and I rode up in the service elevator with nine other servers. My ears popped three times on the way up. The elevator gave up at one-hundred-and-something stories. Stars above, I hated heights.

  The door slid open to reveal three men in cheap tuxedos. They were mages. The magic just hummed off of them. Carrera’s WIP team, I presumed. I glanced over at Dante and Jules. They looked relaxed. Getting Jedi mind probed was old hat for them. I took a deep breath. There are three basic principles to resisting a wipe:

  1) Be aware—if you know the whammy is coming, it’s much easier to it fend off.

  2) Consider your beliefs—a wipe is designed to edit your memories, but it’s harder to overwrite data if it’s being actively used. You need to remind yourself of who you are, what you believe in, and why it’s important. (Oh ye of little faith? Sorry, you’re fucked.)

  3) Be born resistant.

  I felt the pressure of the wipe as soon as the man in front demanded that we line up against the wall. It wasn’t too hard to resist his effort. Lucky for me, I was pretty darn resistant. I frowned. On second thought, if I weren’t resistant, I wouldn’t have been given this horrid assignment in the first place. I fought the urge to crawl into the nearest corner and cry. Instead, I pretended I was back in Polimag and stared dumbly ahead. There was a light push each time the man spoke. He ordered us to serve efficiently, find nothing unusual, depart when instructed, and remember nothing. When I compared it to the strength of Rei’s compulsions, the mage’s attempts seemed laughable. Finished, Carrera’s WIP team moved on to the next elevator and waited for the rest of the kitchen staff.

  After they left, I took a look at the other nine servers. You couldn’t really tell anything was wrong. They looked psyched to be here and ready to do a good job—which wasn’t too far from where they were before the wipe. My fellow servers expected to see famous people, score some major tips, and watch the fireworks from the best vantage point in the city. Who wouldn’t be excited? You’re more vulnerable when you’re told what you want to believe. Their giddiness made the wipe extra powerful.

  Jules and Dante turned to me. We gave one another a brains-are-safe-and-sound thumbs up and headed to our serving stations. As nervous as I was, I was grateful to settle into the old familiar rhythm of waiting tables. This was a job I knew cold. I prepped the ice, checked the beverage stock, prepped some napkins, and peed in the soup. As I was staging the appetizers, Dante clicked in over the radio.

  “Wow, ya’ll, this place is swank.”

  “I really want to try that ride at the top,” Jules replied. “Stupid Talmax. If only they weren’t tryin’ to take over the world.”

  “Cut the chatter you two,” Monique snipped. “Focus on your objective.”

  The OTT had three levels: On top was an observation deck open to the night air. That was where the obelisk with that crazy ride was mounted. (I couldn’t believe Jules would actually want to ride that thing. The thought of it made me want to barf.) On the second floor, a revolving restaurant and lounge occupied most of the space. And the OTT’s exclusive VIP suites occupied the bottom level. Two large spiral staircases connected all three, but a number of rather large men stood guarding those stairwells. They had the elevators covered too. The crazy level of security left the three of us with no clear options. As servers, we had explicit orders to stay in the restaurant, and guests weren’t allowed on the observation deck until right before midnight. We decided to wait for the guests to arrive before we tried something crafty.

  Carrera’s people trickled in slowly. The dinner party was about a hundred strong. I spotted a few celebrities, even a state senator or two. The language of choice was Spanish, and the drink orders were coming in by the dozen. As I picked up another batch, Dante walked up next to me.

  “Bud, I can’t understand a word anyone’s saying. I can translate Elvish, but I’m freakin’ worthless with Spanish.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Both Rei and I speak a passable amount. More importantly, we need to sweep those VIP rooms downstairs.”

  Dante nodded. “I can handle that. I’ve got enough mana for a few shrouds.”

  Mana was going to be our biggest problem. We only had our own reserves to work with. I glanced at the staircase. “I’ll cover your tables. Go make yourself scarce.”

  Dante snickered and went behind the bar. He winked before vanishing into thin air.

  “Give me a second and I’ll distract the guard.”

  I walked over to the big man by the staircase. He looked ridiculous in a tuxedo, like a boulder dressed up as a penguin.

  “Pardon me, sir.” I said.

  The giant leered down at me, his knobby nose flaring.

  “Didn’t you play in the NFL?”

  “No,” he boomed. My skull kinda vibrated as he spoke.

  “But I could have sworn I saw you—”

  “Scram, little thing. You have a job, do you not? Go serve your mead.”

  I felt a breeze brush by me. Dante was through.

  I bowed slightly. “Sorry, sir. Have a nice evening.”

  With Dante off to the races, I walked back across the room and checked our tables. We were serving chicken, salmon, and venison (whatever that was), and while our guests enjoyed their main courses, I went about filling glasses. It gave me the opportunity to check on Rei.

  There were four men and three women seated with her. Her date, Julio Sanchez, was talking loudly into his cell phone. He was projecting a decent amount of that venison stuff halfway across the table. Rei was doing her best to compress her salad into lettuce pudding. I didn’t need the link to tell me that she would rather be applying that sort of pressure on Julio’s oversized head.

  “Ma’am,” I asked. “May I get you anything else? Something to drink perhaps?”

  Rei looked up at me dourly. “Perhaps later. I am finished with these leaves. Remove them. And, servant, take this napkin as well. It is soiled.”

  My eye twitched slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rei looked at me with unvarnished glee.

  Typical.

  Back at the bar, I carefully unfolded the napkin:

  Carrera sits across from me. Plans speech at 22:30. Dibs on kill.

  — ^,..,^

  I smiled. Fangtastic! Our target had been sighted. I glanced back over at the table to size up the DEA’s arch-nemesis—and did a double take. I rechecked the napkin. Either Rei was joking, or Diego Carrera was a balding middle-aged man rising to 5’3’’ tops. He was talking jovially with the rest of the guests. He looked like he was at a…well…at a New Year’s Eve party.

  I scratched my head. This was the man who deceived the Magi of Mexico, commandeered their department of mana affairs, conquered the cartels, and liquidated all of the DEA agents west of the Mississippi? This was the man who was in the middle of a battle for control of Salt Lake’s leynode at this very moment? My shoulders sagged. Where was the Master Warlock of Doom? After all the build-up, I’d expected a towering cyborg with laser eyes, elbow-length rubber gloves, and a massive codpiece.

  Jeez, this was rather disappointing.

  After relaying Rei’s info to Monique, I checked my watch again. Fifteen minutes had passed since Dante started searching the VIP suites, and he hadn’t contacted us once. Those massive guards looked just like the trolls Rei and I had faced in N
ew York. If he had to face one of them head-on, I didn’t like Dante’s odds. As the partygoers began milling about during the break between main course and deserts, I caught Jules’ eyes from across the room. She signaled me over.

  “Bloody hell, Dieter,” she whispered. “I’m freakin’ shakin’ so bad that I can hardly pour water. I don’t think I’m cut out for this stuff.”

  I smirked. “And I am? I’m scared shitless too. We all are. Well, except Rei. Rei looks kinda bored.”

  Jules giggled.

  “Have you been able to find any spell circles?”

  “No, but I’m sure as salt that there’s somethin’ happenin’ on the deck above us.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Ariadne’s thread.”

  “Ariadne? You mean that chick from Crete who got screwed by Theseus?”

  “Yep.” Jules looked up at me. “And I think there was a lesson in there for the wayward young males of the world—whatever did happen to Theseus, Dieter?”

  “Well, Theseus killed the minotaur, and then—”

  “He was lured by Persephone’s wiles into the depths of the Underworld ta spend eternity trapped on the Throne of Lethe.” She clenched her tiny fist for emphasis.

  I scratched my head. “Actually, I think Theseus was rescued by—”

  “Eternity. Eternity with Hades.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll have ya remember, Dieter, that we Irish preserved those myths.”

  I shrugged. “Well I guess I’ll have to defer to Ms. Myth Preserver then.”

  Jules puffed. “Damned straight, barbarian.”

  “So…about that thread of yours?”

  “Aye. Use yer auraception on me bosom.”

  I blushed. “Um, the last time I did that you slapped me across—”

  “Oh shut up, ya useless apprentice. The probation is lifted.”

  I closed off my senses and opened my Sight fully. As the people melted away, a world of light and motion replaced them. I ignored the many dancing waves and focused on Jules alone. Her Ki was as striking as I remembered: an entire galaxy swirling with vibrant colors. But at the center of her Ki, there was something new. A tiny trickle of mana was leaking out. The strand spread out like a fine string of sparkles across the length of the entire room. It was arching upward and inward toward the core of the building.

  “Wowzers,” I muttered. “Like ants to sugar.”

  “That’s me student. And yes, it’s what ya think it is.” Jules motioned above us. “Carrera must have built an array up there. I can’t tell you what the array is for lest I see it, but I can tell you this much: It’s some sort of magnet for mana. I think Carrera wants to draw in mana from somewhere far off in the distance, but I don’t get how he’s doin’ it. There’s nothin’ besides Ki that can draw mana.”

  That wasn’t true. I’d seen an exception to that rule.

  “Jules, when you were hiding in the woods that night Talmax attacked, what did you see?”

  “Not much. I ran for it when the mage’s spell malfunctioned.”

  “So you don’t know what happened after that?”

  “Don’t know if ya noticed, Dieter, but you’ve been kinda dodgy about that topic. I figured ta let it be.”

  “The mage.” I swallowed. “The mage was pulled into his own gate. He was dragged in by the neck. His ACT device just kept conduiting mana from the leyline until it contacted the gate and burned out. His ACT device…it acted just like a magnet.”

  “Awen’s Ghost,” Jules said. “So that’s what this crap really is! Dieter, if you had only told me sooner!”

  I glared at her. Jules needed to keep her voice down. But she was having none of it. She activated her radio and started talking rapid fire.

  “Listen up everyone. We’ve been lookin’ at this the wrong way. We’ve been treatin’ this ACT stuff like it’s some sorta magic amplifier—but that’s not what ACT is. It doesn’t enhance Ki. It is Ki. Ichi, can ya hear me? This tower is a mana harness.”

  Ichijo crackled over the radio: “Jules, are you suggesting the tower will act like an enormous coven?”

  “That I am, Ichi.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “A mage’s Ki works just like an electric magnet. To attract mana, you spin your own mana reserve around your Ki. It’s like electrifyin’ a magnet. The force of mana attraction goes off the charts. That’s how ya snag mana from the ley—but ya can go further than that. Ya can get a group of mages together in a circle and swirl mana around the lot of ya. It’s the basis of a witches’ sabbat. The coven acts like one giant Ki center; that’s why they’re so powerful. Carrera must be usin’ a huge chunk of ACT ta mimic a large coven of mages all castin’ a spell at once. The array isn’t even on yet, and the ACT is suckin’ up mana like mad. I’m gonna guess that all Carrera needs ta do is spin a good amount of starter-mana around a chunk of this ACT stuff, and he’ll be able ta attract oodles of mana from miles off in the distance.”

  “Jules,” Monique asked, “how do we use this info?”

  “It’ll help us find the ACT. If I was gonna build such an array, I’d place a column of ACT at the center of me array. That means that the location of the ACT stores should be near the center of the—”

  “Found it,” Dante chimed in over the radio.

  “Repeat that,” Monique asked. I could hear Roster in the background clapping and yelling something about go-time. It made me all warm and fuzzy to know the crazy bastard was on our side.

  “I found our mark. It’s at the core of the building. It’s a column of dark-red crystal that matches Dieter’s description. And, ya’ll, it looks like we’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

  “How much is there?”

  “More than we can carry. It goes all the way up through the ceiling. Looks like the remodeling included more than just new curtains. Ichi, we’ll have to chip off a sample. Make sure you bring the tools. Jules, I’ll need your help setting up a translocation circle. I’m coming back to get you.”

  As I listened to the conversation on the radio, I swept the room from left to right. (A habit of Rei’s that I had dutifully acquired.) The men and women of Talmax were socializing with the cream of the Las Vegas crust. You could taste the giddiness in the air; they were about to pull off something epic. I was growing irritated when I noticed the tall, lanky woman standing next to Carrera. She was wearing a sparkling yellow dress that shimmered in the light. My jaw tightened. That was certainly a kink. I was trying to think of some way to deal with her when another stunner caught my eye. This one wore a white hourglass dress that fit her curves like a glove. In her shadow, stood two lazily-dressed men. One was short and blond. The other dark and unshaven. My stomach dropped to the floor. This evening had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

  Finding my voice, I asked, “Jules, can you handle the rest?”

  “That I can. Dante and I’ll shroud together just like we practiced. I’ll chalk the circle and bring in the troops.”

  “Good. I need to make myself scarce.”

  Jules looked up at me doubtfully. “Is somethin’ the matter?”

  “Women trouble.”

  Jules’ green eyes narrowed. “Plural?”

  I gestured to the two sources of trouble.

  “By Awen, Dieter, you know them both?”

  “What can I say. I’m a local.”

  Jules re-examined the lady in white and scrunched up her nose. “You know, Dieter, that woman looks a lot like Rei.”

  “What a crazy coincidence,” I muttered. “Point is, I don’t think our fortunes are going good places if either catches sight of me.”

  Jules sighed. “Fine, Mr. Popular, do what you have ta. But Dieter, there’s one last thing I need ta give ya before ya go.”

  “Fine,” I said, eyeing the vampiress about to end my life, “just make it quick.”

  “Sure.” Jules grabbed my suit jacket and lifted herself up on her toes. Grasping me firm, she stared right in
to my eyes. “It’ll just take a sec.” I stood motionless as she pressed her lips against mine. My heart fluttered. The scent of evergreen tickled my nose. My pulse bounded in my ears.

  A second passed.

  Another.

  Jules sank down and hugged me tightly. “Dieter, don’t ya do anythin’ foolish. We get our evidence, and we get out. Let the ICE take care of Talmax. That be their job, not ours.”

  I glanced over at Anna Bathory. Something told me tonight wouldn’t be that simple.

  Jules smacked me in the face. “Listen here, Dieter. The goal of tonight’s lesson is ta stay alive. Anything less and ya fail. You got that, ya chancer?”

  Still shaken, I nodded.

  The scent of pine was still curling about my nose as Jules melted into the crowd. Reaching up, I touched my mouth. Jules Nelson had just kissed me. This required some consideration—but the Duchess of Peoria was fifty feet away and closing, Monique was yelling orders over the open line, and Dante was prepping another shroud for Jules. I started moving my feet in the opposite direction while trying to work it all out in my head.

  Had Jules Nelson, Adept Magus, Druid extraordinaire, just kissed me on the freakin’ lips?

  I touched them again. They’d been so…warm.

  The conversation going on in my left ear didn’t help my nerves. Monique was going on and on about high explosives and containment strategies. I frowned. Why didn’t I get to talk high explosives? That was my bag. This just wasn’t fair.

  I grabbed a tray loaded with champagne and headed over to avert potential disaster number one: My reporter friend, Ms. Curray, was talking to the short, balding, middle-aged man who was about to conquer the entire Western Seaboard of the United States. Someone forgot to tell her you can’t make your deadline form inside a pine box. I tried my best to ignore the tectonic shift that had just shaken my love life and ran smack into Ms. Curray’s behind.

  “Oh, darn it!” I exclaimed as the glasses of champagne tumbled to the carpet. “I’m so sorry, ma’am!”

  Soaked and furious, Lauren Curray turned on me.