Harbinger

by Matthew S. Cox

  Feeling returned to her right arm behind a wave of pins and needles.

  A female voice behind her screamed in sheer terror.

  Kirsten spun to her right, aiming at a muscular woman with a shaved head in a Diablos’ jacket. She had a six-foot-long sword poised high, likely to bury it in Kirsten’s head, but had frozen still, staring at the Harbinger hovering beside her. Though it appeared no different to her, it had to have manifested.

  She started to turn away, regarding the large woman as no longer a threat, but the Diablo’s scream mutated into manic laughter—and she lunged. Kirsten flung herself to the ground, narrowly avoiding the enormous blade, which sank several inches deep in the thermacrete wall. Flat on her back, she raised the E-90 and fired four times into the crazy woman’s chest.

  The body fell away from a bewildered spirit.

  Agonized screams, manic laughter, and the soft flutter of fireballs continued on the other side of the wall. The ghost turned toward Kirsten and swung her huge sword. It bounced away from the energized field of psionic energy radiating from her armor, barely even registering as an impact. A spirit not even a minute old barely had enough power to make a candle flame flutter.

  Kirsten saw no point to lashing a harmless ghost, even if the woman might become a problem in forty years. At least, she had more important matters at the moment, like living Diablos. She scrambled to her feet and ran out from behind the wall, heading down the crater to the nearest chunk of broken building. She slid to a stop on her knees, aiming over the top of the crude barricade, and took out another Diablo lobbing bullets at Kate.

  Blue fireballs shot back and forth like something out of a Monwyn game. Kate, disregarding the occasional bullet hitting her as little more than a spitball annoyance, walked in a slow, deliberate gait toward the dais, tossing flames at any Diablo who dared show themselves. She looked like the Princess of Hell retaking her palace.

  The Black Bishop, hiding behind his throne, kept shouting at her like he tried to take control of a demon, but whatever he said did nothing but make him look insane.

  “Stop or I’ll kill this bitch!” yelled a man.

  Kirsten swiveled her gaze—and E-90—toward a guy in a Diablo jacket using a nude young woman with a vacant, lifeless stare as a shield. He tried to back up, but the leash tethering her to a massive hunk of thermacrete and rebar kept him from going too far. The woman didn’t react to the giant handgun pressed to the side of her head, hanging limp like a broken doll.

  Kate stopped, staring at him.

  “Don’t do it, bitch!” shouted the man at Kate.

  Dorian rushed over to him and raised his arm at the handgun. The ammo counter went dark a second later.

  “His gun’s dead,” shouted Kirsten, trying to aim for a shot past the woman’s head at the man’s face.

  “Don’t try me, bitches!” shouted the Diablo.

  Kate stared at him. He twitched, then grimaced.

  “Back the fuck off or I’ll shoot this meat hole,” roared the Diablo.

  Malice in Kate’s stare intensified.

  He shuddered. The woman in his grip slipped loose, collapsing to the ground. He dropped the gun, staggering backward while grabbing at his chest. A cry of pain started, drowning under a blast of bloody spray erupting from his mouth. His jacket inflated for two seconds before a muted, splattery pop preceded a gush of steaming gore running down his legs to the ground. Had he not been wearing such a heavy jacket, he would’ve sprayed a large area. The body fell to the side, exposing a twitching ghost with an expression of pure agony. A smell like overcooked steak mixed with boiled shit rolled by.

  Kirsten gagged.

  Dorian muttered something in Arabic.

  “I hate being called a bitch,” said Kate.

  The thin woman on the dais tried to stand, but her leash kept her kneeling with a slight bow. She waved her arms in an effort to get attention. “Someone shoot me!”

  Kirsten looked around. All the Diablos lay dead, except for the Black Bishop, who still hid behind the throne.

  A tingle of a surface thought read swept over her mind. She locked stares with the man in the silly hat.

  The Black Bishop stepped out from behind the throne, hands out to either side. “I am unarmed. I can see in your heart that you won’t kill someone who isn’t a threat.”

  He’s psionic. She pointed her E-90 at him. “Move away from that woman. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Kate walked up to stand next to her, fists on her hips. She breathed somewhat rapidly, a trickle of sweat on her face.

  “You didn’t use your E-90,” whispered Kirsten.

  “Meh. Forgot. Still not used to being able to hold a gun. Besides. I wanted to be showy to mess with their little brains.” She laughed. “Jackass there thought I was a demon.”

  The Black Bishop stepped down off the dais, approaching the first row of benches. His gaze focused to the left, at the Harbinger hovering at the edge of the crater. Though he made no sound she could hear, his lips moved in a continuous whisper.

  He’s trying to control it. “Stop doing whatever you’re doing.”

  “I do nothing but follow your instructions,” said the man in a soothing used-hovercar-salesman voice.

  The Harbinger floated down the crater and stopped at Kirsten’s left, almost hiding behind her.

  Kate glanced over at her. “Is melting this guy’s face off too ‘evil?’”

  “Umm…” Kirsten shifted her eyes toward the vaporous entity next to her, keeping her aim on the Black Bishop.

  The Harbinger clasped its hands behind its back and turned away, as if appraising the beautiful scenery of the area… not looking at Kate or the Black Bishop.

  Holy shit. It’s giving us permission to kill him. Kirsten stared through the blue ring-dot sight of her E-90 at the man’s chest. I… can’t just murder a guy.

  She didn’t notice the telepathic connection until Kate dropped it. “My new friend here might be innocent… but I’m not.” Kate summoned a fist-sized fireball.

  The Black Bishop’s scream cut off under the burning orb hitting him in the face. Since it didn’t core out his skull—likely due to her being tired—Kate threw a second one into his chest, and his body erupted in a conflagration that burst into a raging bonfire far too fast. She gestured at him a bit like a wizard, the fire building in time with the man’s screams.

  Cringing, Kirsten shot him in the chest to spare him the agony.

  At the instant the laser pierced him, a shadowy flash erupted from the body and raced over to the Harbinger. The Black Bishop collapsed in a burning heap.

  The Harbinger leaned back, stretching its arms wide, body inflating as if it took a great breath. Its hesitant demeanor evaporated, and it glared down at the writhing ghost dragging himself out of the Black Bishop’s smoldering remains.

  Kirsten had always regarded the agents of the abyss with a strong degree of respect and fear. In that moment, the one she’d almost come to think of as ‘friendly’ radiated such intense power she couldn’t even bring herself to look at it out of dread it would be angry with her. For an instant, she felt like she did the first time she’d ever seen one of them—after the Wharf Stalker.

  With a great, scraping hiss, the Harbinger hurled itself forward and pounced on the spirit of the Black Bishop, dragging it down into the earth. A great wall of shadow rose at the lip of the crater seconds later. Dozens of sparkling silver eyes appeared in the murk. Ghostly Diablos scrambled in all directions, futilely attempting to flee from the legion of Harbingers pouring into the crater as a wall of jet-black fog. The woman with the huge sword ran at one, but her blade had no visible effect on it. She screamed, rage becoming horror as the creature engulfed her and dove into the ground, dragging her out of sight.

  Kate rushed over to Kirsten and grabbed her from behind, peering over her shoulder. “Okay. What’s going on? It just got way extra here. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this randomly afraid before. Come to think of it
, I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared before at all.”

  “Don’t worry.” Kirsten rubbed her arm where she’d been shot—not that it helped much with armor in the way. “They didn’t come here for us.”

  “What didn’t come here for us?”

  “Look if you dare.”

  Her mind tingled briefly.

  “Whoa…” whispered Kate.

  Kirsten held her ground, nodding respectfully to the shadow forms gliding around her, collecting the wretched souls of the former Diablos. Spectral screams rose into the air one by one from ghosts engulfed in darkness. Kate clung to Kirsten until the last of the Harbingers disappeared into the ground.

  The black zone hung in silence, except for the delicate clinking of chain by the throne and moaning emanating from one of the male prisoners. The Black Bishop’s favorite ‘pet’ still tried to stand. Kirsten hurried over to her. Hearing the crunch of boots approach, the woman stilled, then leaned back, exposing her chest, crisscrossed with faint whip marks.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” said Kirsten. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “W-who… are you?” The woman reached out, obviously blind, grabbing at the air.

  Kirsten grasped her hands. “My name is Kirsten. I’m a cop. Division 0. You’re safe now. What’s your name?”

  “I… don’t have a name anymore. I’m just talking meat.”

  “No. Listen to me. The bastards who kidnapped you are all dead. I’m going to get you out of here. You are a person with a name. Remember who you are.”

  “I’m talking meat. I don’t have a name.”

  Kirsten narrowed her eyes. “You are a person. Whatever those bastards told you, ignore them.”

  Despite the woman’s lack of eyeballs, the suggestion appeared to work.

  “A…” She flinched, raising her arms to shield her face. “Ali…”

  “They’re dead. All of them.”

  “Alicia…” The woman erupted in sobs; unable to jump at Kirsten, she tried to pull her close and clamped on. “You’re psionic, aren’t you? Please… please make me forget. I don’t want to remember what they did to me. I don’t want to remember anything.” She shivered. “If you can’t do that, please just kill me.”

  “I’m not talented enough to erase a memory like that. And I won’t kill you. All killing you will do is make you a ghost that still has all those memories to deal with.”

  Kate roamed around the area, melting the other captives free.

  The woman’s jaw dropped. “No… I can’t take this anymore. I don’t want…”

  “If you really do want to forget everything, when you get to the medical center, ask for Lieutenant Commander Ashford. He’ll help. I’ll send him a message so he’s aware of your request.”

  “Really? He can do that? Make it so I don’t remember anything?” The woman again tried to stand, but the leash jerked her to a stop. “They did things to me… I don’t want to remember. I can’t.”

  “Let go of me a sec so I can get you out of that, okay?”

  Alicia only clung tighter.

  Kirsten shifted her around enough to get a hand on the padlock securing the collar and snipped it with her uti knife. The instant the metal ring fell away from her neck, Alicia leapt into Kirsten’s arms.

  “The other four are pretty much catatonic, and I am not going into their minds to see what happened to them.” Kate walked up behind her. “What a damn mess.”

  “Pemberley, you still there?” Kirsten blinked in disbelief, watching Kate flick bits of lead off her chest and legs. “How…”

  “Many times did I get shot? Not sure. Lost count. I’m pretty damn tired so probably a lot.” She administered two stimpaks to herself. “And I feel like I fell down twenty flights of stairs. I’m a huge bruise.”

  “No… I mean how the f—heck did bullets melt so damn fast?”

  Kate laughed. “Remember that ‘awakened’ thing? Yeah. It’s complicated.”

  “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” said Pemberley. “We’re still here. You need help?”

  “Yeah, but only because we can’t carry five people. The site is secure. Can you pick up a few more kidnap victims? I need a minute or ten to check over the ‘demonic altar’ back here.”

  “I do not want to know.” Pemberley chuckled. “Right. We’ll be at your position in a minute. Sit tight.”

  “Well, one good thing…” Dorian looked around. “Everything else is so damn scared of Diablos, this black zone is probably the safest place in the city at the moment. Nothing here but us and bugs.”

  Alicia continued clinging to Kirsten, muttering random whispers, begging no one in particular not to punish her for daring to stand up straight or speaking.

  Dorian stared at her. “I have no idea what’s down there in the Abyss, but whatever it is… it’s too damn nice for these fuckers.”

  “Yeah. It means a lot when a Harbinger says ‘go ahead and just kill them.’” Kirsten looked over the bodies, then at Kate. “Thanks for the help.”

  “No problem.” She kicked a hunk of blackened thermacrete into the air. “Some infestations can only be purged with fire.”

  The whirr of ion thrusters glided in overhead. The A3HV kicked up a massive amount of silt as it settled in for a landing between the auditorium benches and the dais. Kirsten carried Alicia over and tried to coax her into letting go. The woman started screaming when one of the other tactical officers tried to wrap a blanket around her, believing she’d be punished severely for covering up.

  “Calm down,” said Kirsten.

  Alicia relaxed her grip, tolerated being wrapped in a blanket, and offered no protest when Officer Tina Estevez helped her into the back of the hover van. While the rest of the team collected the four catatonic victims, Kirsten returned to the dais to catalog and confiscate the Black Bishop’s various books, datapads and ritual implements.

  “Be right back,” said Dorian. “Gonna go get the car.”

  Kirsten nodded at him, then piled the stuff together for collection. The lack of perpetual gloom radiating from a nearby Harbinger made even this place seem cheery. Much to Kirsten’s surprise, another A3HV landed beside Pemberley’s team. Four men in Admin uniforms and blue gloves hopped out and hastily collected the remains of the Diablos, loading them into the back like cargo.

  Huh. That’s odd.

  Alicia resumed screaming from inside the A3HV… at least until someone gave her a tranquilizer. Or maybe one of the tactical officers also had Suggestion. Kirsten accessed her holo-terminal, and started typing an email to Lieutenant Commander Ashford.

  That woman really doesn’t need to remember any of this. In fact, I hope he wipes all the victims’ minds. The mere thought of being kept prisoner and abused like that made her want to crawl under her bed and not come back out. But… no one could ever do that to her. Not with Suggestion to defend herself. No matter how badly Mother hurt her for her ‘evil’ psionic abilities, Kirsten hugged herself, beyond grateful for being who she was.

  27

  Paradise

  Consciousness pulled Kirsten out of a bizarre, but happy dream.

  In the body of Asara the Huntress from the Monwyn game, she’d been streaking through the woods, bare as a wood nymph, playfully running away from a satyr version of Samuel Chang. Colorful animals followed along singing some nonsensical tune. She’d jumped past a thick hedgerow and emerged on the other side dressed in Asara’s armor to find a pint-sized Monwyn the Wizard waiting for her.

  As soon as she scooped him up into a hug, she woke up, clinging to Evan.

  Sometimes, she’d sleep in on the weekend when neither of them had to go anywhere. He usually got out of bed first and flopped beside her until she woke up. She peered over his shoulder at the portable video game system where a cartoony knight navigated a forest. The retro-style game using a physical screen looked cute.

  “Case make you sad?” asked Evan, still playing.

  “A bit, yeah. But I’m actually in a rath
er good mood now.” After a week with a Harbinger around, its mere absence made her feel happy enough to bounce around and sing. Being safe at home with Evan in her arms set off an explosion of bliss.

  He gurgled. “Air. Mom. Need air.”

  Kirsten relaxed her hug, kissed him on the side of the head—which made him squirm—and sat up.

  “Can we still go today or do you have to work?” asked Evan.

  “One case down. Maybe two.” She bit her lip. The Diablos killed Rafael’s brother as part of the ritual to bind that Harbinger. I still don’t know which one of them specifically did it, but there’s no way to find out now. Does it matter? “Go on and get ready.”

  “Cool!” He shut off the game, rolled into a hug, then ran off.

  Halfway down the hall, he flung off his pajama pants, threw them into his bedroom, and went the other way into the bathroom. The clonk of the autoshower tube closing followed a moment later. Kirsten crawled out of bed, pulled her night shirt off, and climbed into the autoshower in the attached bathroom.

  The warm, soapy spray rolled down her body, as awesome as if it leeched away all the horrible memories of the raid. Reading case files about the depravity of what Diablos did to their kidnap victims didn’t compare to seeing people who’d been tortured to the point where they’d gone permanently catatonic. She hated to admit it to herself, but perhaps in some cases, summary execution was justified. Even the Harbinger had no problem with killing them.

  Lieutenant Commander Ashford had replied with two emails. A simple ‘acknowledged’ in the first, the second a somewhat more verbose, ‘Miss Alicia Rios is fine.’ Though a non-psionic person abducted by a street gang didn’t fall under Kirsten’s jurisdiction, she peeked into the Division 2 inquest. Alicia Rios had been missing for two months, having disappeared during an onsite appointment with her job as a maintenance technician for home/apartment management systems. At least her health plan covered cybernetic eye replacements. Ashford had altered her memories such that she believed she had experienced an unidentified illness that left her comatose for two months and destroyed her eyes.