Dark Light gh-6

by Jayne Castle

  "You found something?" she asked quickly.

  "It's more like what I haven't found. Look, where are you supposed to meet Hank?"

  "East Wall Street. Place called the Firewall Tavern."

  "Hell. Trust you to find your way to the Firewall. Out of all the dumps in the Quarter, you picked that one to walk into alone."

  "What's wrong now?" Sierra asked, sounding bewildered.

  "Don't go into that place without me," he said, keeping his voice very even.

  "Why not?"

  "It's a dive."

  "That's okay, I do dives."

  "Not like the Firewall. Pay attention, Sierra. I repeat, do not go into the Firewall without me."

  "You know, Fontana, we really must have a little talk soon. Just because you're my husband for a while, that doesn't give you the right to order me around as if I were one of your hunters."

  Well, at least she had referred to him as her husband, not as her partner in the investigation. He set his back teeth. "Please don't go into that tavern until I get there. It isn't just any Quarter dive. People have been known to disappear into the catacombs or get permanently ghost-fried when drug deals go bad there. Last I heard, journalists don't have any special immunity to a mag-rez or a ghost."

  She exhaled slowly. "Okay, those are all good, logical reasons for waiting. I'll meet you outside the Firewall."

  He allowed himself to breathe again. "One more thing."

  "If this is another warning about the Firewall, you've made your point."

  "This isn't about the Firewall." He was on his feet, taking his black jacket off the wall hook. "I forgot to tell you this morning that we've got a social engagement tonight."

  "What kind of social engagement. Your family?"

  "I don't have any family, remember?"

  "You never told me that. I know your parents were never married, but that doesn't automatically imply that you don't have a family."

  "It does in my case. The social engagement I'm talking about is the annual Crystal City Charity Ball. The head of the Guild always attends. I need a date. In light of recent events, that would be you."

  "Are you kidding?" She sounded outraged. "I can't go to the Crystal Ball with you."

  He winced and held the phone some distance away from his ear. He noticed that Ray was smiling.

  "Why not?" he asked cautiously.

  "You need a ball gown to go to a ball. I don't have one in my wardrobe. Didn't think I'd need one here in Crystal."

  "So? Go shopping this afternoon. The Guild will pick up the tab."

  Ray winced.

  "Damn it, Fontana," Sierra said tightly. "You can't just spring something like this on a woman—"

  Out of nowhere, inspiration struck. "Donovan Corley will be there," he said.

  "Corley?" Sudden interest replaced the annoyance in her tone. "Are we talking about the same Corley who is the CEO of Underworld Exploration?"

  "The very same."

  "You'll introduce me?"

  "Sure."

  "You've got a date."

  He ended the connection and gave Ray a satisfied smile.

  "I'm a fast learner," he said.

  Chapter 15

  HER PS! SENSES SHRIEKED A WARNING WHEN SHE WALKED through the door. Not that she needed her intuitive talent to know that the Firewall was the kind of place that gave hunter bars a bad name, Sierra thought. She doubted if even the most thrill-seeking coeds or bachelorette parties would schedule an evening of fun here. Dark, dingy, and reeking of stale booze, it smelled a lot like the alley where Hank and Jake had made their homes.

  The ambient underground psi was very strong. Fontana was right; the establishment was probably sitting on top of a hole-in-the-wall. She didn't doubt that he'd been correct about the drug dealing in the basement, either.

  With the exception of a couple of tough-looking types dressed in faded khaki and worn leather, the place was nearly empty. The bartender gave Sierra and Fontana a hard look.

  "Got a feeling the service is not great here," Sierra said quietly.

  "That's okay," Fontana said. "I don't plan to leave a tip." He took her arm in a proprietary manner. "I see someone in the last booth. Is that Hank?"

  She peered through the gloom. There was a shadowy figure at the back of the room. "Yes, I think so."

  "Keep moving."

  She did, but it wasn't easy. Her intuition was shrieking at her to turn around and run. The only tiling that kept her going forward was the knowledge that Fontana was by her side.

  Elvis wasn't happy, either. He rumbled softly, not in a good way, and went sleek. His second set of eyes appeared.

  One of the men gave Sierra an assessing look and leered. "Well, well, well, Chuck, look what just walked in. Kind of classy for this part of town, ain't she?"

  Evidently this pair didn't read newspapers or watch television, Sierra thought. They hadn't recognized Fontana.

  "I do believe that what we have here is a nice uptown couple that wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time," the second man said. When he leered, he displayed a lot of bad teeth.

  His companion guffawed at the witticism. "I'll bet the pretty lady would be real nice to us if we did her a couple of favors first."

  "What favors you got in mind, Chuck?"

  "I think we should singe the guy in the suit first. Teach him some manners. This is a hunter bar. Outsiders ain't welcome. Then we burn the little rat on the lady's shoulder. It's a pest-control issue."

  "Whatever you say, Chuck." The first man got to his feet. He stepped directly in front of Sierra. "I'll bet you came here looking for a good time, didn't you, honey? Chuck and me, we'll be glad to show you one. Ain't that right, Chucky?"

  "Damn right," Chuck agreed.

  He, too, was on his feet. He started to circle around behind Fontana.

  "Hang on to Elvis," Fontana said quietly to Sierra. "I don't want him to get hurt."

  Sierra grabbed Elvis in both hands and clutched him tight. Elvis wriggled in annoyance, but she did not release him.

  Fontana looked at the two men. "We won't be staying long. If you're smart, you'll sit down, finish your beers, and leave us alone."

  The man who was trying to get into position behind Fontana grinned, showing off his really bad teeth again.

  "We can always drink beer. Right now, the lady looks like more fun. Ain't that right, Joe?"

  "She sure does" Joe agreed. "I'll get her out of the way. Don't want her to get fried when you take care of the suit."

  He reached for Sierra's arm. Elvis snarled, showing his own impressive array of teeth. Unlike those of the hunters, his were in excellent condition. Joe retracted his arm instantly, reddening with anger.

  "I'll wring its neck," he vowed, retreating to a safe distance.

  "This is not a good idea," Fontana said, his voice calm and just slightly edged with irritation.

  "Sure isn't a good idea for you," Joe agreed.

  Acid-green fire pulsed. Two ghosts coalesced rapidly out of the heavy alien psi that permeated the atmosphere of the tavern, one in front of Fontana and one behind him.

  More energy swirled in the shadowy space. A rippling, whirling, churning river of energy the color of midnight rapidly took shape. It formed a barely visible whirlpool that shimmered fiercely in the gloom. The nearest green ghost was sucked into it and vanished The second one quickly disappeared as well.

  The two hunters were still trying to adjust to the realization that their ghosts had ceased to exist when Chuck realized that the dark waves of psi were headed toward him.

  He screamed and ran toward the front door. The dark light pursued, brushing him ever so gently. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

  The river of night turned toward Joe.

  "No." Joe threw up both hands in a useless attempt to ward off the dark energy. "No."

  But his back was to the bar. There was nowhere to run. The black wave touched him lightly. He jerked like a puppet on a string and then sprawle
d on the floor.

  The darkness vanished. Fontana looked at the bartender, who seemed to have been flash-frozen.

  "Will there be any further objections to our presence in your establishment?" Fontana asked politely.

  The man shook his head. "Nope. You're the new Guild boss, aren't you?"

  "Yes."

  The bartender nodded. "Thought so. Saw your picture in the Curtain this morning. Chuck and Joe, they don't read the papers. They gonna be all right, or do I have to dump 'em into the catacombs?"

  "They'll wake up in a couple of hours," Fontana said. "But they may not be feeling perky."

  "Not my problem. That was dark light you zapped 'em with, wasn't it?"

  "You're a former Guild man, aren't you?" Fontana asked.

  "Damn straight."

  "Then you know that officially speaking, there is no other kind of dissonance energy except green light."

  "Right. Understood. Can I get you a beer?"

  "No, thanks," Fontana said. "We won't be staying long."

  He drew Sierra past Joe's still form. She was shivering with reaction to the violence. Adrenaline, she thought. Elvis, however, was fully fluffed again. Only his daylight eyes were visible in his tatty fur.

  Hank was still in the booth at the rear, looking bleary-eyed and a little stunned. Both of his hands were wrapped around a bottle of Green Ruin.

  Sensing the panic that was only partially dulled by the alcohol, Sierra spoke gently.

  "Hank?" She slid into the booth across from him. "Are you all right? I've been very worried about you."

  "What are you doing here?" Hank asked, but his attention was riveted on Fontana. "That was dark light, wasn't it?"

  Fontana sat down beside Sierra. "Name's Fontana."

  "Yeah, I recognized you even before you used the dark psi. You're the new Guild boss. What do you want from me? I'm retired."

  "Information is what we want from you," Fontana said.

  Hank's gaze went to the two men on the floor. "I don't know anything."

  "We know that Jake disappeared," Sierra said.

  Hank licked his lips and drew a shaky breath. "This is about what happened to Jake?"

  "Yes," she said. "You saw what happened to him, didn't you?"

  "I was sleeping off a lot of booze." Hank rubbed the back of one hand across his mouth. "I don't know what I saw."

  "Please tell us, Hank," she said.

  Hank sank in on himself, looking a lot older. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

  Elvis fluttered down from Sierra's shoulder. He bobbed and weaved across the table and stood up on his hind legs in front of Hank.

  Some of Hank's tension seemed to ease. "Hey, there, little buddy. How you doin'?" He patted Elvis.

  Elvis chortled a greeting. Hank seemed to relax a little.

  "Tell us what happened to Jake Tanner," Fontana ordered quietly.

  Hank tightened his grip on the bottle. "If I tell you what I saw last night, you'll figure that I've been fried." He took a gulp of Green Ruin and lowered the bottle. "I'm tellin' you right now, I'm not goin' to no hospital. I'd rather go down into the tunnels and start walking without amber."

  In other words, he would rather commit suicide, Sierra thought. She reached out to touch his arm.

  "No one's going to force you into a hospital, Hank," she said. "Please tell us what happened to Jake. You saw something, didn't you?"

  Hank fixed her with a grim, haunted look. "You want to know what happened to Jake? The aliens got him, that's what happened."

  Chapter 16

  FONTANA FOLLOWED HER BACK TO HER APARTMENT BECAUSE it was closer and because they needed a place where they could talk privately.

  "Okay, let's see what we've got," she said, dropping her purse and coat on the hall table.

  He followed her into the kitchen. Elvis was already there. He had taken up a position in front of the refrigerator.

  "We've got nothing except the Green Ruin fantasies of a burnout," Fontana said. He lounged against the counter, folded his arms, and watched her open the refrigerator. "Fish-headed creatures operating a giant beam of ultraviolet energy."

  "Hank saw something." She removed a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter from the refrigerator. "I agree his recollections are garbled because of the booze, but whatever he saw scared the heck out of him last night."

  "Aliens." Fontana grimaced.

  "He was very clear about the fact that the ultraviolet light didn't pulse and flare the same way that green ghost energy does. He said it was steady, the way a flashlight beam is steady until you move the flashlight."

  "Dissonance energy is highly unstable. It always pulses and flares." Fontana paused. "Maybe what he saw wasn't diss light."

  "He said he could feel it, remember? He was sure it was dissonance energy, just not the usual kind." She spread peanut butter on two slices of bread. "Hank may be a burnout, but he worked the tunnels for a lot of years. He knows ghost energy."

  "You believe he was telling us the truth?"

  "Absolutely. At least he was telling us what he believes to be the truth."

  Fontana rubbed his jaw, eyes narrowing. "I've never heard of ultraviolet psi light."

  She put the lid back on the peanut butter jar and took a plump, yellow banana out of the basket. "Until I met you, I never knew there was such a thing as dark light."

  "That's because you're a civilian," he said. "There are a lot of things civilians don't know about what goes on underground."

  She gave him her steely smile and started to peel the banana. "That's because the Guilds like to keep secrets. Well, here's the thing about secrets, Mr. Guild Boss. You can't keep them forever. Sooner or later, there's always a leak."

  "And there's only one surefire way of taking care of that kind of leak."

  She went very still, her eyes stark with dread. "Dear heaven. Do you think someone killed Jake? Maybe he was murdered because he talked to me about the rumors of an alien lab."

  The guilt and dread in her eyes bothered him. He walked around the counter and gripped her shoulders very tightly.

  "All we know for certain is that Jake has disappeared, possibly for the same reasons that those other hunters vanished from the streets. Whatever is going on, it started before you began your series of reports on the alien abductions, remember?"

  She relaxed a little. "Yes."

  "That means that nothing that has happened is in any way your fault."

  "But what is going on?" she whispered.

  "I don't know yet, but I think the timeline can be narrowed down to something that happened about six months ago."

  "How do you know that?" she asked eagerly.

  "Jake's service records covering the last six months of his employment with the Guild have vanished. I think that someone, presumably Jenner, made sure they disappeared."

  "That was right around the time that I went to work at the Curtain" she said. "Shortly after that, I picked up the rumors about Underground Exploration's sweetheart deals with the Guild. A couple of months later, I heard the first reports of homeless men in the Quarter being abducted by aliens." She handed the peanut butter and banana sandwich to Elvis. "We have to find out what happened to Jake."

  "Yes."

  "I want justice for him and for all the others who disappeared."

  "We'll get it."

  "It's all so damned unfair." She wiped her eyes with a tea towel. "He was just a burned-out hunter trying to get by. He loved making that miniature dressing room for Elvis. I think he could have had a life if the Guild hadn't abandoned him to the streets."

  Fontana said nothing.

  Sierra suddenly lowered the tea towel. "Good grief. Aliens."

  "Not you, too. I've got enough problems on my hands. If you are about to tell me that you actually believe the aliens have returned to Harmony—"

  Her expression lit with zeal. "I saw them."

  "What?"

  She tossed the towel down onto the counter and dashed out
of the kitchen. She went into the small front hall. When she returned, he saw that she had her notebook in hand. She flipped it open.

  "This is the picture of the aliens moving around behind the ultraviolet beam that you asked Hank to draw for us," she said.

  She unfolded the sketch and put it on the counter. Two diverging parallel lines indicated the energy beam. There were also a couple of stick figures representing the aliens.

  "What about it?" he asked.

  "The heads of the aliens." She was practically glowing with excitement. "What do they remind you of?"

  He studied the bulbous, slightly elongated shapes. "Fish heads?"

  "That's not what they look like to me," she said.

  He looked up, aware of the energy shimmering in the air around her. "What?"

  "Motorcycle helmets," she said.

  Chapter 17

  KAY STARED, GOGGLE-EYED. JAW ALMOST ON THE FLOOR.

  "You're going to the Crystal Ball tonight? With Fontana?"

  "Well, it's not as if I'd go on my own," Sierra said. She lounged on the corner of Kay's cluttered desk. They had the newsroom to themselves. Matt was out chasing down a story about a rez-screen star who was rumored to have checked into rehab for the twentieth time. Runtley was in his office, and Phil was in the men's room. Everyone else was out to lunch.

  "Okay, I'm seriously impressed," Kay said. "That is so exciting. Everyone who is anyone in Crystal will be there. Just think, you'll be hobnobbing with all the most important, most influential movers and shakers in town."

  "This isn't going to be a social event for me. It's purely business. Donovan Corley will be there. Fontana promised to introduce me to him. With luck, I'll be able to zing him with a couple of questions about UEX's deals with the Guild."

  "Oh, that should go over like a rat in a punch bowl. Sierra, the Crystal Ball is the social event of the year. You can't just barge in and grill powerful men like Corley while they're swilling champagne."

  "Why not? I've had a hunch from the beginning that Corley and his company are somehow involved with the juice dealing."

  "Is that so? Why?"