by Jamie Davis
“Knowing her, she bought up a stash years ago and has it all stored away in an underground bunker somewhere. It’s not like Elves get cancer. She’s got nothing to worry about.”
“What about everyone else who has to breathe in that toxic air when they go to her shop?”
“I’m up to date on my vaccines, Clara. I’ll be fine. No cancer here.”
“I’ve heard it’s making a resurgence in places where the gates caused the most disruption since the Incident.”
“That’s just because of the loss of public health resources to keep people safe there. It won’t be a problem here.”
Kurt glanced at the digital clock on the stove. “Hey, gotta go. Leave the rest in the sink. I’ll finish when I get back.”
“Nonsense, there’s not that much left to do. I’ll finish up and curl up on the couch with some wine until you get back. You promised me a movie later.”
Kurt returned the warm smile she flashed him. This was going better than expected. He went to grab his jacket. It still got chilly at night this time of year.
He saw his stun baton in its charger on the wall inside the hall closet when he grabbed the jacket off the hanger. As an afterthought, he grabbed it and clipped it to his belt. Jonesey didn’t live in the best part of town.
“Be back soon,” he called out as he opened the door. He wasn’t sure if she answered back or not so he just pulled the door shut behind him and keyed the lock with a press of his thumb on the screen.
Instead of exiting at the street level, he continued down into the basement beneath the dry cleaners. His apartment came with a private basement storage area and a small underground garage with a ramped entrance to the street. He’d have trouble getting a taxi or shared ride vehicle in that part of town late at night so he opted to take his own car.
Kurt pressed the button on the wall to open the overhead door granting access to the street and hopped into the modified early century sports car he owned. It was more fun to drive than the modern fully electric SUV parked and plugged in next to it. He pressed the button to fire up the batteries and charge the hybrid ethanol-electric motor he’d installed in place of the old gasoline engine that used to be there.
The dashboard lights and the faint hum of the fan blowing air from the vents were the only indications the car was powered up. Pressing the accelerator, Kurt pulled out of his parking space and drove up the ramp and onto the street beside his building. The door shut automatically behind him.
There wasn’t a lot of traffic out and about in this section of Baltimore after hours and he made good time heading east past the old neighborhoods of Little Italy and Fells Point with its clubs and restaurants before turning north.
Jonesey’s place was in a warehouse on the edge of the Highlandtown neighborhood which had become something of an enclave for non-humans inside the city. Since most were unemployed, at least not in legal ventures, it was a high crime area and Kurt kept his eyes open for trouble.
He hated parking on the street here but his car had a modern security system in it and it should be alright in the short term. Most of the people around here knew Jonesey didn’t like her clients bothered. Over the years since the elves came out, she’d carefully cultivated the image of being easily offended and lethally dangerous to those she considered enemies.
Besides, the local criminal element needed their share of gadgets, too. If she decided to cut them off because they didn’t respect her little corner of the neighborhood, they’d have trouble getting the things they needed to do their jobs.
Leaving his car in relative safety parked on the curb right in front of the door to Jonesey’s lair, Kurt went over and keyed the old-fashioned audio-only intercom by the door. It had to be at least a hundred years old and original to the warehouse.
The old speaker crackled and a deep alto voice with a hint of rasp answered. “Door’s open. Come.”
Kurt reached out and turned the knob. It was unlocked as promised and he pulled the door open and went inside. It wasn’t as if the outer door needed to be locked. The entrance inside was a three square meter wire cage made of a combination of cold iron, silver alloy, and steel bars.
That made the cage proof against most attacks, mundane and arcane. At the very least, it would slow any would-be attacker long enough for Jonesey to either fry them with her extensive security countermeasures or to make her escape.
The steel outer door shut behind him and a faint click told him it was now locked. As soon as the door behind him closed and locked, the gate opposite him opened. Kurt headed through the door and down a long corridor that opened into a small, smoke-filled workshop.
Every spare section of wall space was covered with shelves, bins, and boxes holding an assortment of wires, circuit boards, and various disassembled electronic devices.
The center of the room held a one and a half meter by two-meter workbench with numerous scanners, waveform monitors, and dials around three sides, leaving one side open for the shop’s owner to work on the latest project, in this case, what looked like a disassembled, military-grade plasma rifle.
Sitting on a tall stool, hunched over the rifle on the workbench, was a silver-haired woman. A hint of a pointed ear poked out from under the unruly hair styled in whatever the female version of a mullet was called.
Smoke curled up from the cigarette in her mouth to mingle with the already stuffy atmosphere in the small, enclosed space. She soldered a few more connections on the rifle’s circuit board while he waited, drawing in on her cigarette and blowing out a fresh cloud of smoke.
Kurt resisted the urge to cough.
Without looking up, the woman spoke. “Trent says you have a job planned against the GEU impound warehouse in Atlanta. That true, or was he lying just to get you a late appointment?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she turned and stared at him, waiting for his response as if she’d burn him to ash with her eyes alone if he were to tell her anything but the truth. Kurt wasn’t a hundred percent sure she couldn’t do it. The extent of any elf’s power was a mystery and none of them were lending any answers to solve it. They liked keeping things like that to themselves.
“You heard right, though it’s not a job against them specifically. It’s just a retrieval job. I have to pick up an artifact for immediate transport thru a nearby portal.”
“I know the place. It is just one of the locations where they are keeping the contraband they confiscated that proves government collusion to create the Newton’s Gate disaster.”
Kurt winced. He hoped Jonesey didn’t head down the path of one of her famous rants about the conspiracy theory that the Incident that opened all the gates was no accident.
“I’ll keep my eyes open for anything that looks like evidence you could use.”
“You’d do that? That would be most excellent.” Jonesey rubbed her hands together in anticipation.
“Did you need me to retrieve anything else? Trent mentioned something about a certain item you needed picked up while I was there?”
“Yes, that is correct. It turns out they have something that belongs to me. Those GEU thugs confiscated it from a perfectly legal courier sent to bring it to me. I cannot wait for it to be cleared through normal channels. It is something very special and it’s most urgent the package reaches me sooner rather than later.”
“What is it?”
The elf fixed him with a level stare. “I thought you never asked a client what it was you were delivering? Isn’t that your schtick?”
“I need to know what I’m looking for at least. I don’t care what it is for if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s a box covered in elven runes. It has my family sigil on the lid in ivory mosaic tiles.” Jonesey reached up with one hand in the space between them. Her finger traced through the air, leaving a magically glittering trail in the shape of a stylized J.
“How big is it? My primary target is quite large so I’m gonna have my hands full.”
“It’s s
mall, a cube about ten centimeters on a side. I have the location in the warehouse including an aisle and shelf number. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“And in exchange for that, you’ll help me get my thing, too? That’s the deal Trent told me you made.”
“Correct. If you fail to deliver, or you get caught, you’ll owe me full retail on everything I provide you otherwise. Do we have an understanding?”
Kurt nodded. “Agreed.”
A verbal agreement was all Jonesey needed. People didn’t cross her more than once, not and live to tell about it anyway.
She smiled as soon as he said yes. “We’re gonna stick it to the man on this one, Kurt. Wait until you see what I have come up with for you on this job. I just finished up the last item.”
Jonesey pushed the plasma rifle back to make room in front of her and pulled out a small circuit board.
“Jonesey, you know how I feel about guns.”
“Oh, this,” she gestured to the plasma rifle. “That’s for someone else. This circuit board is for you.”
Jonesey didn’t seem to notice his puzzled expression. She just kept going.
“First we have to get you inside the fence and past the electronic and arcane wards set around the building. The government hacks who call themselves wizards are mostly incompetent, but even they can cast wards good enough for a warehouse. For that, I’ve come up with this.”
She leaned back and pulled a small child’s pink backpack from the shelf next to her. She handed it to him.
“Wear that as you approach the building and all magical wards will drop and the security cameras will begin a loop of the previous ten minutes. It’ll repeat that looped video one time before the systems reset. Remember, the loop replays once only so you’ll have to work fast. Twenty minutes is all you’ve got.”
“You couldn’t have installed that feature in a leather fanny pack or man purse?” Kurt quipped, pointing at the pink backpack. “Almost anything would be better than this.”
“It’s all I had on hand when Trent told me about your job. Besides, it’s cute, don’t you think?”
“So,” Kurt continued without answering the question. “This ridiculous thing gets me to the door without being seen. Then what?”
“Once you reach the loading dock doors, open the backpack. The looping signaler is built into the front pocket so you can still use the main compartment to hold other items. Pull out the white rectangular case first.”
Kurt reached into the bag and found three gadgets inside. He spotted the white rectangular case next to two C-shaped pipes, each wrapped with wire and sporting a toggle switch. He pulled out the small box first as instructed. Kurt’s eyes widened when he saw what it was. Most people wouldn’t know what it was unless they’d seen in a museum but his father had one just like it in his collection and showed it to him once when he was a kid.
“Is this what I think it is? This is worth a lot of money isn’t it?”
“I suppose.” Jonesey shrugged. “And yes, that’s a Gen one Apple iPod, or at least the case for one. The box was the right size and shape and I could adjust the external controls and the click-wheel to do what I wanted, so that’s what you get.”
“What do I get?”
“There’s a magnet inside the back. Take it to the door and slap that on the steel wall of the warehouse next to the loading dock doors. Make sure to place it directly beside the entry keypad and badge scanner.”
“And?”
“Turn the click-wheel clockwise until the display lights up. That indicates success inputting the correct passcode digit. Repeat until all the digits have been entered. The door will either pop open on its own or you’ll have to physically open it. I wasn’t able to get the details on what type of door they used when they built this place.”
She paused to take a drag on her cigarette, then continued, exhaling smoke as she talked. “Now comes the fun part,” Jonesey said. “The next thing you do is…”
Kurt listened to her instructions and mentally wondered if any of this was going to work. Her gear was usually reliable, but everything from the pink backpack down to his narrow time window to pull off the job screamed trouble to him.
It wasn’t like he had a lot of options, though. Clara needed her thing out of there as soon as possible.
He repacked the bag after she went over everything with him and zipped the main compartment shut. When he slipped the small pack over his shoulder by one strap, he didn’t have to have a mirror to know he looked ridiculous.
“Oh, one more thing,” Jonesey called out as he turned to leave. “Give me your stun baton.”
He unclipped the weapon from his belt and handed it to her. She’d originally designed it for him when he told her he wanted a non-lethal but functional combat weapon to use on jobs.
She took the baton from him and shook her head. “I can’t believe I made this so clunky. It’s not as elegant as it should be at all.”
“It does the job just fine, actually.”
“Oh, I know it’s functional. Everything I make works. I’m talking about overall design and aesthetics.”
Jonesey set the half meter, telescoping metal tube down and handed Kurt a smaller twelve-centimeter tube instead. This one had a cushioned rubber grip covering it.
“What’s this?”
“That’s your new stun baton. In its current mode, it works as a contact taser. It should do the trick to knock out anything approximately man-sized.”
“It has other modes?”
“Sure. Snap it out to one side with a flick of your wrist to engage full combat mode.”
Kurt did so and the small tube that fit in the palm of his hand telescoped out to just over a half meter in length. The familiar weighted ball rested at the tip and Kurt took a few practice swings, careful not to hit anything in the confines of the small workshop. It felt just like his old baton except quicker and lighter.
Jonesey smiled and pointed to the baton in his hand with a fingertip. She muttered something and there was a sharp pain in the palm of the hand holding the handle. Passing the weapon over to his other hand, Kurt saw blood on both his palm and the baton’s grip.
“Now it knows you are its owner. It will not work for anyone else. It will also come when called.”
“What?”
“Set it down on the bench and take a step back.”
Kurt did as he was told.
“Now hold up your hand and focus on it. Visualize your hand holding the baton.”
He raised his hand up, palm out while thinking about it as she instructed. The baton flew from the workbench and slapped against his bloody palm.
“That should work up to a distance of up to ten meters or so. It’ll depend on how fatigued you are and if you’ve expended any of your magical energy or cast any spells recently. Still, it should allow you to throw it at adversaries at close range, stun them, and call it back to strike again. I have to say, though, I still don’t understand how it is you hate to use a basic firearm like a normal human.”
“I’ve seen enough people die at my hands. Guns make it far to easy for me to do it again.” Kurt held up the baton, changing the subject. “This is great, what do I owe you for this?”
“Nothing. It’s still a work in progress. Test it and tell me if it works as advertised. Eventually, once I add all the bells and whistles, that’s gonna be the thing that makes me a billion dollars.”
“If you say so.” Kurt clipped the baton to his belt and it instantly retracted back to its smaller size. “Thanks, though. This’ll come in handy.”
“Don’t forget my box. It is urgent that I get it as soon as possible. Whatever you do, don’t lose it. Now get out of here. I’ve got to pack for my trip.”
Kurt knew better than to remain past the request to leave. He turned and retraced his steps, leaving the building. He glanced at his watch and smiled. That hadn’t taken too long at all. Hopefully, Clara was still up and they could enjoy that nightcap and movie together.
Chapter 7
The first sign of trouble at home showed up as he walked up the stairs to his apartment from the basement parking area. The door at the top of the stairs hadn’t just been forced open. Something or someone bashed into it hard enough to take it completely off the hinges. Racing up the stairs, he saw the crumpled steel door lying on the hardwood floor two meters inside the entrance.
Kurt, the pink backpack over one shoulder, reached down and grabbed his new stun baton. He’d hoped to have a few days to practice with it down at the gym to get a sense of how it worked and get used to it’s slightly lighter weight. No sense worrying about that now. He snapped his wrist downward and the baton extended to lock into position.
Resisting the urge to rush inside and check on Clara, Kurt took his time, scanning the floor for any signs of a trap, physical or arcane. He didn’t possess the extensive magical ability of some archmages, but he’d trained his senses to be attuned to the subtle feeling of most types of magical fields nearby.
This time he detected nothing unusual. Everything was silent in his apartment and there was no sign of a struggle other than the caved in door laying on the floor.
Taking his time and watching each step, Kurt moved into the apartment continuing to look, listen, and feel with every fiber of his being for signs of an intruder or something to tell him where Clara was.
“Nice backpack.”
The voice came from behind him as he walked through the living room. It caught him by surprise and spun him around as he brought up the baton, ready to strike. The subtle hum he felt through his hand rather than heard told him it was powered up and ready for action.
There, seated on the sofa that had been empty just seconds before, was a tall man dressed in a grey business suit. It had an odd cut to it that didn’t quite look normal. That marked him as an outworlder.
The man pointed at the pink backpack. “Is it yours or do you have a small child here I don’t know about? My people searched the whole apartment but children can be crafty at hiding from adults, don’t you agree?”