Dead Stare (Ghosts & Magic Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  “I got shot in Tokyo. I wasn’t breathing, but I was still up and moving.”

  “How?”

  “Lucky, I guess. Why?”

  She relaxed. “Just a superstition, a meme that goes around the Machine from time to time. They say that when the dead stop dying, it’s a sign of the apocalypse. That the end is coming.”

  “I’m definitely not that. As far as I know, I’m the only one who’s done it, and that was magic, not mystic.”

  “Of course. Like I said, it’s a silly urban legend.”

  My thoughts turned to Death. A silly urban legend?

  It better be.

  41

  What you see is what you get

  Sandman transferred me to the Wysiwyg, dropping us right next to Frank and Myra, who had taken the opportunity to grab a drink at the bar during our absence.

  “Really?” I said, surprising them enough that Myra nearly dropped her drink. “We’re on the job.”

  “Relax, boss,” Frank said. “It’s harmless.” He showed me his cup. “They call it blue milk. Apparently this Aldred guy loves it. I think it tastes like sewage.”

  It looked like blue milk. It smelled horrible.

  “Did you spot our man?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what he looks like,” Frank said.

  I looked at Myra. “Do you? You work for him.”

  She shook her head. “Privacy, remember?”

  Right.

  “He’s over there,” Sandman said.

  The Wysiwyg was currently an old-time bar, with lots of wood and tables arranged around a central island. There was a stage near the front where a line of girls in big hoop skirts were doing the can-can or something, and I noticed half-dozen fellows in matching suits standing near the corners.

  Sandman was pointing at one of the tables, where a group of four were gathered playing cards.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “The Machine looks like this to you. But there’s another view to it, the raw code. I can see both at once. His construct is different from all of the others. It’s subtle, but I’ve been here long enough to tell the difference.”

  “Which one is he?”

  “The black one.”

  He was sitting with his back to us. That was good.

  “Do you have a plan to get him to help us?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Let’s talk to him then, shall we?”

  She nodded again.

  “Frank, keep an eye on the goombas watching the floor. Myra, if there’s trouble, do that Athena thing again.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  Sandman and I headed over to the table. As we got closer, we could hear Aldred speaking, talking about algorithms or some other technical jargon that went right over my head. I split my eye over toward one of the suits in the corner, who had suddenly taken a very keen interest in us.

  “Aldred Jones?” Sandman asked as we reached him.

  He stopped talking but didn’t turn.

  Sandman reached out, her hand growing large enough to wrap around his throat.

  “This is your plan?” I said as the people at the table stood, guns appearing in their hands. The goombas were on the move as well.

  “Call off your dogs,” Sandman said. “We just want to talk.”

  Aldred tried to cough something out, but she was squeezing too tight for him to speak.

  She let him go.

  “Who the hell are you?” Aldred asked, recovering instantly. “No. Forget that question. What do you think gives you the right to touch me in my Machine? No. Forget that question too. How do you know who I am?”

  “Call of your dogs,” Sandman said again.

  “Or what?”

  She glanced over at one of them. He vanished a moment later, kicked off the Machine. “Or I’ll ban every user you have and then wipe the database.”

  “Are you crazy? It’s one thing to ban someone. You can’t get into those systems.”

  “Take a look, Aldred. I’m already in those systems.”

  The avatar froze for a couple of seconds. “How?” he asked when he returned to it.

  “Security hole.”

  “I don’t have security holes.”

  “You have one, and I found it. I’m giving you a chance to be cordial about it. The choice is yours.”

  Aldred smiled. He looked impressed. “Do you work for me? Because if you don’t, I think I have an opening. Why don’t you guys get a drink while I chat with my new friends?”

  The two remaining avatars shrugged and headed for the bar. The goombas moved back into the corner. We took their place at Aldred’ table.

  “Okay, so you have me by the one double zeroes. Why?”

  “Why else?” I said. “You have something we need.”

  “You must need it pretty bad. I just checked your nodes.” He looked at Sandman. “Except yours. I can’t see yours. Where are you?”

  “Nowhere you want to go,” she replied.

  “I know who you are. All of you.” He looked at Myra. “You’re fired, by the way.”

  “What?” Myra said.

  “You aren’t firing anybody,” I said.

  “Why not, Conor? Or Baron. Or whatever. She’s supposed to be working for me, not helping you.” He smiled. “A necromancer. The only one in the world. What’s that like? I’m dying to know.”

  “I’ve heard that one before. Let’s cut through the bullshit. You built a vault for Mr. Black. We have the key. What we don’t have is the address.”

  His expression changed from highly amused to slightly scared.

  “You think I’m going to give it to you? You are crazy.”

  “You’re going to give it to us, or you won’t have anyone left who has access to your Machine,” Sandman said. “Won’t that be fun?”

  “Come on. I know you’re a ghost, Conor. I know that you know what it would mean for me to cross Black, especially on this.”

  “I thought you didn’t bow to the Houses,” I said.

  “I don’t. What I have is loyalty to my customers. And a healthy fear and respect for them.”

  “Nobody has to know you gave us the location.”

  “Process of elimination. I’m the only one who knows.”

  “Somebody else must know. How else does Black access it?”

  “He doesn’t access it. I set it up; he made his deposit. It’s never been opened since.”

  “If he doesn’t need to open it, why does it have a key?”

  “How should I know? He gave me the funds I needed to expand the Machine in exchange for the vault. He gave me autonomy and privacy that I couldn’t get any other way. I’m not going to give up his secrets.”

  The rest of the avatars in the bar vanished suddenly.

  “No?” Sandman asked.

  “I’m telling you, you can delete every user, I’m not giving up the vault. I can’t. You have to understand that.”

  “I understand why you don’t want to,” I said. “The problem here is that you think you have a choice.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The bar disappeared. We were sitting on a wireframe table set on a wireframe grid. Aldred’ eyes opened wide, and he shook his head.

  “No, no, no, no, no. Wait.”

  “That was only one server,” Sandman said. “This is a pretty bad exploit, don’t you think? You should have patched it.”

  “Please? Be reasonable.”

  “I don’t want to be reasonable. Give us the location or your entire life’s work starts to disappear.”

  Aldred put his head in his hand, weighing his options. He looked torn, but I already knew what the outcome would be.

  “Fine. Fine. Just don’t delete anything else. I’d rather die than lose my legacy. Someone’s going to get fired over this.” He pointed at Myra. “You’re definitely still fired.”

  “The location?” Sandman said.

  “I’ll take you there,” Aldred replied.


  We were there before he finished saying it. Or, more appropriately, the vault had come to us. We were still standing on the wireframe grid, but a small box that looked like an ATM had appeared in the middle of our group.

  “That’s it?” Frank asked. “I was expecting a big steel door or something a little more impressive.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Aldred said. “If you have the key, you can access it.”

  “How?” I asked. The key was in my head.

  “Put your thumb on the sensor,” Sandman said.

  Easy enough. I did as she said. A small current ran through my finger and into the box. Then its screen turned on and started displaying a bunch of gibberish.

  “What is it?” Frank asked.

  “The deposit,” Sandman said, examining it. “The algorithm.”

  “I don’t get how something in the Machine can control magic outside of it,” I said.

  “The Machine is built on magic,” Aldred said. “Creating a conduit isn’t much different than creating a circuit.”

  “Programmable magic,” Frank said. “Huh. What will they think of next?”

  “Can you read it?” I asked.

  “Of course. It’s going to take a little time for me to integrate it with my existing calculations. I’m downloading it now so I can review both.”

  “You have what you wanted,” Aldred said. “Can you get out of my systems now?”

  “Yes. I’m out. I also patched the flaw for you. Thank you for being so cooperative.”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever it is you’re up to, I hope you fail. Exit Machine.”

  Aldred vanished.

  “No, you really don’t,” I said to the spot where he had been standing. “How long is this going to take?”

  “A few hours at least. You might as well exit, too. I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve deciphered the algorithm.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. I was feeling a bit protective of her after our conversation on the beach.

  “I’ll be fine, Conor. Nobody can reach me, remember? Thank you for your concern.”

  “Let me know when you have the location. I’m ready to end this.”

  “I will.”

  “Exit Machine,” I said, a syllable ahead of Frank and Myra.

  The virtual world faded out as my consciousness was brought back to the real. I coughed the moment I came back, grabbing the visor and throwing it aside so I could hack into my hand.

  It was a few seconds before I noticed that Rolo’s man was on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding him. Then Shika was in front of me, her weapon in hand.

  “Baron,” she said. “We need to go.”

  42

  Traced

  “What the hell happened?” I asked, shoving myself from the chair and scanning the room. Three more bodies lay near the doorway.

  “Black’s men. They must have traced your node back here.”

  It wasn’t unexpected. “How did they get past security?”

  “I don’t know. I assume they’re dead.”

  “You should have pulled us out.”

  “Why? The situation was handled, and your mission was important.”

  “Whoa,” I heard Frank say. “What a mess.”

  “Did you get what you needed?” Shika asked.

  “We’re closer. Is the whole building compromised?”

  “I don’t think so. Not yet. It may have only been these three.”

  “Rolo isn’t going to be happy when he finds out his friend is dead,” Myra said.

  “Rolo is dead,” Shika said.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Not completely. I haven’t seen him. Standard procedure on a job like this is to kill on sight, and why wouldn’t Black want to take out one of House Red’s users.”

  “Target of opportunity. Right.”

  “I expect that they didn’t think you would have someone guarding you directly. They kicked open the door and shot Oliver. Then I shot them.”

  I walked over to the bodies. No magic meant I couldn’t do anything with them but look. Each was wearing full body armor, a bulletproof vest, helmet, and leg guards. Each had taken a single bullet to the two inches of neck that was exposed, which had punched through the carotid artery. Blood had sprayed everywhere around them.

  “Do you recognize any of them?”

  “Guardians only work defense, Baron.”

  “Not you.”

  “I’m no longer a Guardian.”

  “True. Let’s get back to our suite. I need to retrieve the meds, and then we have to find someplace safe to hole up while we wait for Sandman. She’s reverse engineering the algorithm right now.”

  “Of course. We need to be cautious. I don’t know if they sent another team down there.”

  “I’m not that useful without access to the fields. Take point. Frank, back her up.”

  “Sure, boss,” Frank said.

  I found Myra hunched over near her rig, vomiting.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Stay close.”

  We followed Shika and Frank down the long hallway, pausing at the top of the stairs while she padded silently to the main floor of the penthouse and vanished into Rolo’s room. She motioned us down when she returned.

  “Dead?” I asked.

  She nodded. “One bullet to the brain. Clean.”

  The same way Dannie had gone. It sent a chill through me.

  We kept going, reaching the elevator. Shika tapped her bracelet against the panel to call it.

  Nothing happened.

  “Disabled,” she said.

  “Ambush in the stairwell,” I replied. I felt naked without my magic. I put my hand in my pocket, wrapping it around the dice. Cold. Satisfied. The mask? I wasn’t putting it on, not when I had Shika and Frank.

  “Frank,” Shika said. “Go in first. They will shoot you, but you can take it. I’ll be behind you, tracking the muzzle flashes. I go up; you go down. Got it?”

  “Will you go out with me?” he said in response.

  Her left eyebrow went up. “Got it?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. I got it. You’re sure I can survive this?”

  “If they’re carrying the same rifles as the ghosts I already killed, yes. Your skin is harder than the average ogre, and you can heal yourself.”

  Frank drew his hand cannons. “Plus I got these,” he said.

  We inched over to the stairwell. At least we knew they wouldn’t be throwing magic at us.

  “Are you ready, Frank?” Shika asked.

  He didn’t look frightened or nervous. In fact, he looked pretty damn badass in his long duster and toting the enlarged pistols.

  “Yup.”

  She pointed to the door. He stood in front of it, leaning back slightly and kicking.

  It blasted off the hinges, flying into the stairwell and slamming against the opposite wall. The motion caused the first few rounds to hit the wrong target, and Frank was in and firing down before the assassins could recover.

  It didn’t stop the bullets from raining down on his head. I saw chips of flesh and small sprays of blood spread from his heavy skull and upper back. Shika crouched behind him, looking up at the other half of the crossfire and taking aim. She fired quickly and judiciously; six rounds total to quiet the attack.

  It was over in less than a dozen seconds. Frank’s aim was nearly as impeccable thanks to the augmentation, the sheer stopping power of his weaponry making up for any deficiency. He fired the last round and then blew on the end of one of the guns before slipping them back into their holsters.

  “Damn that stings,” he said. His head was bleeding, but the shots had broken some of the pustules and sent the healing substance over the wounds.

  “Kneel down,” Shika said.

  Frank did as she asked, and she used her fingers to rub the puss over to his other wounds.

  “Hey, that’s nice of you,” he said.

  “You did well, Frank Do
bson.”

  “Piece of cake.”

  “Do you think there are more?” Myra asked.

  “Probably not,” I replied. “You never know. Black is pissed, and we’re inching closer.” I put my arm over my mouth, hacking into it. I needed the meds.

  We made our way down the stairs to our floor. Everything was peaceful there, the kill team having directed all of their energy to Rolo’s penthouse. Tarakona wasn’t going to be happy when he learned the techno was dead. As far as users were concerned, only necros were expendable.

  I made my way into the kitchen, opening the freezer and taking out the Xenoxofril. I wanted to take it straight away, but we didn’t have time for that. Black knew where we were, and it wouldn’t be long before he figured out his team had failed again.

  Was he reconsidering his decision not to kill hundreds to get to me? It was small-time compared to what he was planning to do.

  We needed to disappear before he had the chance.

  43

  Breaking up is hard to do

  “Conor,” Tarakona said, his voice hanging on the “r” before trailing off. The dragon sounded tired. “I call you, remember?”

  “Your safehouse is compromised, and Rolo Brand is dead,” I replied.

  A low growl was the sound on the other end of the line. I waited a few seconds for him to speak. He didn’t.

  “The good news is that Sandman is working on our problem. The reason I called is because we need somewhere to hide out while she does her thing. Your lair is the safest place I know.”

  He was silent for at least ten more seconds. Thinking about it? Trying to resist killing me through the connection, as I had seen him do before?

  “We went to war with House Black to keep you in the clear,” he said at last. “I underestimated Mr. Black’s resources. We’re losing, Conor. Badly. House Yellow is already in tatters. Mrs. Yellow is dead.”

  “What?”

  He growled a little more loudly. “Silver and Orange both sided with Black. I believe either they don’t know what he’s planning, or they’re so afraid of him they don’t care. It as a misjudgment on my part.”

  “Misjudgment?”

  “Thousands of years add wisdom, but they do not lead to perfection, necromancer. You’re running out of time. I’ve had to pull Peter back to assist me in keeping this place hidden from Mr. Black. I must protect Ashiira at all costs. As it is, I cannot risk bringing you here. Not when you are at the top of Mr. Black’s list.”