Sally shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t want to be his girlfriend,” she said. “Unlike two people I know.” She smirked at Tyler. “You didn’t cry when I staked him, did you?”
“Oh, shut up,” Tyler said. “I didn’t want to be his girlfriend.”
“I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, either,” Jeffrey said. “His sexy powers were no use against me!”
“You were supposed to wait outside,” Oliver said to the cat. “I thought I made that pretty clear. ‘Jeffrey, wait in the car. Jeffrey, it’s too dangerous.’ Doesn’t seem ambiguous at all.”
“It’s a good thing for you I came in when I did,” Jeffrey said. “Since you were about to be Dracula’s girlfriend.”
Sally laughed and scratched the cat behind the ears. “You did good.”
Oliver’s cell phone chirped. He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Artemis,” he announced. “She wants an ETA on our landing.”
Sally glanced at her watch. “Five hours, at this speed,” she said. “I can go up front and open it up if she needs us there sooner.”
Oliver typed out a response and sent it to Artemis. A moment later his phone chirped again and he read the reply. “No rush,” he said, “but she wants us in the office when we land. Seven picked up some kind of localized electromagnetic storm up near Sausalito and she wants us to check it out.”
“What the hell is an electromagnetic storm?” Jeffrey asked.
“I saw that on Star Trek,” Tyler said. “It’s when…” he thought about it, “no, I’ve got nothing.” He suddenly perked up. “Maybe this means we’re finally going to meet some aliens!”
Sally frowned. “I think it’s just a fancy way of saying it’s a strong electromagnetic field,” she said. “Lots of things cause that.”
“Like what?” Oliver asked.
“Sunspots?”
“Why would we be going to Sausalito to investigate sunspots?”
Sally shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not sunspots. You can ask Seven when we get there. I don’t know why he’s not checking it out himself, honestly.”
Seven was the technical member of their team. Seven wasn’t his real name, and Oliver had no idea what his real name actually was. He knew more about computers than anyone Oliver had ever met, and interacted with them in a way that suggested they were not as much tools to him as they were his friends. Oliver wouldn’t have been entirely surprised to discover that Seven was actually some advanced form of anthropomorphic computer himself, even though that didn’t seem very likely. Then again, six months ago Oliver would never have suspected that one day he’d be keeping company with a talking cat and watching Dracula take a stake through the heart. Life could be very strange sometimes.
“He’s probably in one of his agoraphobic phases,” Tyler said. “I remember once he didn’t leave the office for 369 days.”
Oliver blinked. “369 days? That’s over a year.”
Tyler nodded. “I know. It had to be exactly 369 for some reason. I think it had something to do with prime numbers.”
Oliver thought that over. “369 isn’t a prime number.”
“Then I have no idea. Seven’s in his own world. I don’t think even Artemis knows why he does what he does.”
“Any idea what we’re going to be looking for in Sausalito?” Oliver asked Sally.
“I don’t know. Maybe some of those Star Trek aliens you two are always going on about. It would be a change of pace, at least. I’m getting pretty sick of vampires and lizard people. I’d be happy with an old-fashioned ghost hunt right about now.”
“That’s…something you do?” Oliver asked. Artemis had assigned him a stack of case files to read when he’d joined Araneae as a way of providing him an education in what they did. There was very little vocational training available for his current job, after all. He hadn’t made much progress on the files, though.
“I haven’t, but this one,” she nodded at Tyler, “told me some stories.”
“Ghost hunts freak me out,” Tyler said. “I did one before I met either of you that was so bad, the guy I worked with back then quit and joined the priesthood afterward.”
“Really?” Oliver asked.
Tyler nodded. “And he moved to Cleveland, too.”
Jeffrey rolled onto his back and gave an exaggerated wail. “Oh, no! Not Cleveland!”
“Be quiet,” Oliver said. “What do you know about Cleveland, anyway?”
“It’s in Cuyahoga County, for one thing.”
Oliver stared at the cat in surprise. “Really?”
“Of course it is. See? I know more about Cleveland than you do!”
Sally stood up. “I’m going to check up front. I’ll give you guys a heads-up before we land.”
“I think I’ll find something to eat,” said Tyler, heading for the kitchen.
Jeffrey curled up on Oliver’s lap. “And I need a nap after my big fight with Dracula.”
Oliver scratched the cat’s shoulders and he purred contentedly. “You were very brave,” he said.
“Damn right I was,” said Jeffrey. And then the cat promptly fell asleep.
Chapter 3
They landed at a small airport just south of San Francisco a little more than five hours later. The sun was beginning to set as they unloaded their gear and piled into a Lincoln town car, again with Sally behind the wheel. The three of them had left their own cars in their office’s parking garage before the trip. Artemis preferred they take the Lincoln when they were on “business,” if for no better reason than nobody near an airport was likely to give it a second look. There were times that it paid to be inconspicuous, and Artemis was a big proponent of hiding in plain sight.
“Think we have time to get something to eat?” Tyler asked. Oliver suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Tyler had devoured three meals on their flight back from Romania. Eating was never far from his mind, but somehow he never appeared to gain weight. To Oliver he looked like Shaggy from the old Scooby-Doo cartoons, although he didn’t recall Shaggy ever wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and Tyler rarely wore anything else. Tyler claimed becoming a werewolf had affected his metabolism, but he never seemed to stop being hungry whether he changed into wolf form or not.
“We should check in at the office first,” Sally said. “If Artemis really does want us to hit Sausalito tonight, we’ll get something on the way up there.”
“What would we even do?” Oliver asked. “Walk around town and look for electromagnetic storms?” He thought that over. “I don’t even know what one looks like.”
“I have no idea,” Sally said. “Seven probably has equipment that can pick them up. Or, I don’t know, maybe we’ll run into some flying cars. Whatever it is that electromagnetic storms do.”
“I want to go home,” Jeffrey complained. “I miss my toys, and my bed, and my television…”
“My television,” Oliver said.
“Our television.”
“Fine. You didn’t have to go to Romania with us, you know.”
“I get lonely when you leave me for too long,” Jeffrey said. “Then I have to pee on your bed so you understand how sad I was.”
Oliver nodded. Last month he’d left the cat behind when Artemis sent him on a trip to South America to look into reports that an ancient temple had somehow disappeared without a trace. The noxious state of his house when he returned home had convinced him never to leave the cat alone again, unless Jeffrey insisted on it. And quite possibly made some kind of recorded statement promising that he’d behave.
Traffic was light on the way into the city. Oliver had lost track of what day it was thanks to international travel, but his phone’s screen told him it was Sunday. Downtown would be quiet, then. The area around their office in the small financial district near the end of Market Street was a hive of activity during the week, but a ghost town on weekends. That was just as well. Oliver didn’t feel much like dealing with crowds after their trip, and if they did wind up going to Sausalit
o tonight, it would be an easy drive. They could be over the Golden Gate Bridge and on the waterfront in half an hour, at most.
The Araneae Group’s main office was on the 41st Floor of a skyscraper not terribly far from Oliver’s old office. He’d worked as an analyst at a small hedge fund there, and had always assumed he would stay in that job until he retired. That was until one day an assassin posing as a SEC investigator had tried to kill him in one of the hedge fund’s conference rooms. Tyler had come to his rescue, shooting the assassin in the head. And then, much to Oliver’s surprise, the assassin’s wound had healed almost instantly and he’d continued pursuing Oliver, only to abandon the hunt when he was betrayed by his client, one of the lizard people who had wanted him dead. Even if Oliver had wanted to go back to his old life, it would have been very difficult to just pretend none of that had ever happened, however unlikely all of it may have seemed. Artemis had offered him the opportunity to do something new with his life, and he’d taken it.
Now he did a different kind of work entirely, although he wasn’t exactly sure how he’d describe it if he were put on the spot. It said “consultant” on his business card, but that could mean almost anything. Paranormal investigator might have been a better description for what he actually did. In any case, it wasn’t something he could talk about at parties, even if he were invited to a party and actually went, which had not happened in recent memory. The Araneae Group had been legally established as an international competitive intelligence firm, whose business it was to advise clients all over the world. In fact, they had no clients, and as far as Oliver knew they never had. Something would come to Artemis’s attention, and she’d send them out to investigate. Money never seemed to change hands. Oliver wasn’t sure where their funding came from, but Artemis had deep pockets and connections in extremely high places.
As Oliver had expected, the financial district was nearly deserted when they turned onto Pine Street. “We could hit Chinatown later,” Tyler suggested. “Everything down here is going to be already closed.”
“I want shrimp,” Jeffrey said. “And noodles. Get me some noodles.”
“I’m never getting you noodles again,” Oliver said. The mess left behind after the cat’s first attempt to eat chow mein had required Oliver to hire a professional carpet cleaning company.
“Are you still whining about that?” the cat asked. “I told you to cut them up for me.”
“I did cut them up.”
“I guess the pieces weren’t small enough, were they?”
Sally turned the car into their building’s underground parking garage and started down the ramp that led to the lowest level. Like most buildings in the financial district, theirs had little guest parking and nearly all of the spaces were assigned to tenants. The garage was nearly deserted today as a result. The only other vehicle on their level was a rusty old Econoline van parked near the elevator lobby. That was unusual, Oliver thought. The van must have belonged to a contractor or an employee of the building, but there was no company logo on it. On a weekday, the building’s security officers probably would have turned it away at the gate. But come to think of it, Oliver’s team hadn’t actually come through the gate today.
“That’s weird,” Oliver said.
“What?” Tyler asked.
“The gate was up.” Tyler glanced at him curiously. “The garage gate outside. It was up when we came in.” On weekdays, security officers would stand at the garage’s entrance, checking IDs and turning away tourists looking for a cheap place to park before they headed off to the Embarcadero to shop. On weekends a full-length metal gate served that purpose, instead. Anyone working on the weekend could enter a code on a panel outside and the gate would roll up, but it rolled back down once a car passed through.
“I guess it was,” Tyler said. “I didn’t notice before.”
Sally pulled the Lincoln into its assigned spot near her Miata. “Maybe we’re going to be kidnapped,” she said dryly.
Oliver eyed the van. “Well…”
She smirked at him. “Don’t worry, Oliver. I’ll protect you.”
“Me, too,” said Jeffrey. “Me and Sally are total badasses. Did you see how we handled Dracula?”
Oliver sighed. “I just thought it was strange the gate was up. That’s all.”
They got out of the car, Jeffrey hopping down onto the cool cement of the garage floor. The cat didn’t like to be carried, considering it an undignified way to get around. That opinion could change at a moment’s notice, though, and it often did. Jeffrey wasn’t exactly consistent, but after all, he was a cat.
Twenty feet away the glass doors that led to the elevator lobby slid open and Seven stepped into the garage. He had a lean build, circular eyeglasses, and spiky blond hair that seemed to point in every direction. Oliver had assumed the man must use a great deal of hair gel in the morning and had asked about it once, but Seven had replied he’d never used “product” in his life. When Oliver asked why his hair looked like he’d stuck his hand in an electrical socket, Seven had muttered something incomprehensible about humidity and walked away.
Seven wore a white lab coat and held a tablet computer in his hand. He studied it for a moment, a worried expression on his face. “What what what?” he muttered to himself.
Sally stopped in her tracks and held up a hand to keep the others from advancing. “What’s going on?” she called, her hands drifting toward the thigh holsters that carried her pistols.
Seven tapped the tablet with a finger and frowned. “There was another burst,” he said. “Electromagnetic. Strange. Shouldn’t be possible in here without…” he trailed off, looking at the van and biting his lip.
“Without what?” Sally asked.
Seven’s fingers danced over his tablet. “No,” he said. “Not possible. Not here. They’re gone. All gone.”
“Oliver!” Jeffrey whispered loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear him easily. Quiet whispering was a skill he had yet to develop.
“What?”
The cat nodded at Seven. “I think he’s finally lost it.”
Seven shook his head. “No, not lost. Not lost.” He stared at his tablet for a moment and Oliver saw what little color the man had in his skin drain from his face. “Found. Oh, no. Found.”
“Found…what?” Tyler asked.
Seven looked up at Sally. “Run, Sally! Run now!”
The back doors on the Econoline opened and a man slowly emerged, stepping down right next to Seven. Oliver’s first thought was that the man looked like he’d wandered off the set where somebody was filming a science fiction movie. He wore a black bodysuit with illuminated strips that ran down his arms and legs. Metallic plating covered his chest, looking like something a motorcycle racer might wear for protection, with similar reinforcements at his knees and elbows. His right eye looked normal enough, but the left one glowed blue, as if it were being lit by a bulb implanted just behind the eyeball.
All that was disconcerting enough by itself, Oliver thought, but the black assault rifle the man held in his arms was even more worrisome.
“Holy shit,” Tyler said. “I don’t believe it.”
“What the hell is that?” Jeffrey screeched.
“Cyborg!” Seven shouted, taking a step away from the man. “Get out of here!”
The cyborg slowly turned his head to look at Seven, moving as if he were exhausted, then raised one fist and backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. He turned back to the others. “Colonel Salera Rain,” he said, speaking as if with great effort. He sounded as if he wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep for the next hundred years. As Oliver watched, something sparked on his chest plate and made a noise like a fuse burning out. The cyborg, if that’s truly what this was, appeared to be malfunctioning.
Oliver had never actually seen one of the cyborgs before. He’d heard stories from time to time, and he knew he’d undoubtedly learn more if he ever found the time to go through that stack of c
ase files Artemis had given him, but they’d seemed like a fairly low priority. He didn’t know the exact circumstances, but Sally had been involved in a conflict with them and claimed to have exterminated their entire race. At times she seemed smug about it, but as Oliver had gotten to know her better he’d started wondering if that was really the case at all. The Sally he knew was as hard as nails and the best fighter he’d ever seen outside of an action movie, but she was far from heartless. However deeply guarded they may have been, she did have feelings.
At the moment, though, she just gaped at the cyborg as it took a step toward them. Oliver couldn’t recall ever seeing her rendered speechless before. It was like she’d seen a ghost, or perhaps all of the ghosts in the world at once.
“Colonel Salera Rain,” the cyborg repeated. “You are guilty of genocide. For this, you are sentenced to death.” He raised the assault rifle at her. “Rot in hell, you evil bitch.”
That got Sally’s attention. She turned and shoved Oliver straight into Tyler, sending them both tumbling down behind the Lincoln. Jeffrey squealed with fear. “Stay down!” Sally commanded. Then she was running away from them, her silver pistols appearing in her hands as if they’d been there all along.
The cyborg opened fire, but rather than bullets, a bolt of blue energy shot out at Sally, just missing her head. It slammed into the cement wall of the parking garage behind her, dissipating into a web of blue tendrils that left a smoking scorch mark on the wall. Still running, Sally returned fire. She was heading for her Miata, Oliver realized. Maybe she intended to drive away and lead the cyborg away from them? Sally wasn’t the type to run.
A flurry of Sally’s bullets slammed into the cyborg, sending him back a step but not appearing to penetrate his armor. He fired at her again, this time hitting the Miata. Sally rolled behind the car and popped up again an instant later, using it for cover. She let loose another barrage of fire until her guns clicked on empty.
Oliver managed to get his gun out of his ankle holster and fired two shots at the cyborg, missing him entirely. The cyborg turned toward him. “I have no fight with you,” he said. “Stay out of this.” Then he fired three times at the Lincoln. This time the energy appeared to electrify the car.
Interesting Places (Interesting Times #2) Page 2