Harbinger

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Harbinger Page 31

by Matthew S. Cox


  Upon noticing the sun had gone down, she got up and went to her room. Evan walked in a moment after she finished putting her uniform back on.

  “Mom?”

  She waved him over and hugged him. “I’m just going to go talk to Theodore. I need help on a case. You can stay with Nila for a little while until I get back. Shouldn’t be long at all.”

  “Can I go? Theo’s funny.”

  “Umm.” She shifted her jaw back and forth. No way did she want Evan anywhere near Malden when she confronted him… if she caught up to him again. But she also didn’t expect Theodore or any of the other ancient ghosts to find him right away tonight. “I suppose you could—”

  A strong sense of dread came out of nowhere.

  Evan looked around, stepping closer to her. “Careful.”

  “I feel it, too.”

  “No. I mean, I’m barefoot and you got your boots on.”

  If not for the pervasive, supernatural gloom, she would have laughed. “Feels like a Harbinger’s nearby.”

  “Yeah. That’s weird, right?”

  “They usually don’t visit living people…” Kirsten looked up and down. “Unless one of our neighbors just died and they had some dark secrets, I’m not sure what’s going on.”

  A black spot appeared on the wall beyond the foot of the bed, the stain racing outward until it covered the entire surface. Shadowy vapors welled up from the midpoint until they coalesced into the shape of an emerging Harbinger. It drifted forward, peeling the gloom from the wall into itself as it floated silently closer.

  Kirsten faced it and offered a nod of greeting.

  “Hi.” Evan waved at it.

  Other than variances in size, every Harbinger she’d ever run into had appeared identical. Despite that, she suspected she’d met this one before. Something indefinable about it gave off a sense of familiarity.

  “Hello,” said Kirsten. “Is… something wrong?”

  The Harbinger half turned away, beckoning her as if to follow. It pointed at Evan, then the floor.

  “He should get down?” asked Kirsten.

  “I think he wants me to go to Nila’s.”

  It nodded.

  “Be careful, Mom.” He hugged her. “Must be important if one of these guys wants your help.”

  Kirsten walked him to the elevator and down to the 39th floor. The Harbinger followed, watching from enough distance that its dread aura didn’t reach into Nila’s apartment. Dorian’s former duty partner answered the door with a confused eyebrow lift.

  “Something came up. I probably won’t be long, but would you mind watching Ev for a bit?”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “Yay!” shouted Shani from the living room.

  Evan ran inside and jumped the giant sectional.

  “Thanks. Be back as fast as I can.”

  “Don’t be reckless.” Nila grinned. “And say hi to Dorian for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Kirsten hurried down the hall to where the Harbinger floated. “Okay. Lead on.”

  30

  The Fundamental Fabric of the Universe

  Two sparkling silver eyes hovered amid a cloud of darkness that flooded the back half of the patrol craft.

  Dorian kept looking over at her, clearly unnerved by the presence sharing the car with them. He didn’t say anything, though she couldn’t help but think of his demeanor as someone with a half million credits of stolen merchandise hidden on their person trying to have a casual conversation with a cop. Not that she blamed him. Free of the Black Bishop’s control, the Harbinger radiated an air of dire trepidation that left her muscles taut and whitened her knuckles on the control sticks. While she considered it an ally, being close to such primal energy always made her wary of committing the tiniest error of decorum.

  She’d climbed to 2,000 feet, high enough to avoid almost every building in West City, and had been flying in a straight line ever since the Harbinger’s vaporous arm pointed her in a specific direction. It made no further motions, so she kept on heading that way: mostly north with a slightly eastward drift.

  “How’d it go with Theodore?” asked Dorian after about twenty minutes of silence.

  “Haven’t spoken to him yet. I was just about to leave when the Harbinger showed up.”

  “Ahh.” Dorian nodded. “That’s a good reason to wait.” He paused. “Any idea what it wants?”

  Kirsten eyed the Navcon, watching the top-down view of buildings on the minimap scroll by. “Not entirely. They’re not big on conversation. But… I trust it’s important so, here we are.”

  “What does it need help with?” asked Dorian.

  “Harbingers don’t need help from mortals.”

  Dorian tilted his head. “Except in cases where they’re trapped by ritual magic.”

  She sighed. “Okay. Fair point.”

  “I’ve been wondering something… dark spirits who have established a foothold in the normal world are, for whatever reason, not susceptible to Harbingers simply grabbing them.”

  “Yeah. Seems that way.” She nodded.

  “Prior to your birth, how exactly did Harbingers do their jobs? Did they exist before you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course they did.”

  He waved his hand about. “Then how did they do their job without you to ‘soften up’ the bad ones for them?”

  Kirsten glanced sideways at him. “I still haven’t quite worked out that whole omniscient thing. I have no idea. But… I guess there had to be someone like me. Heck, Father Villera seemed to know quite a bit about this stuff. Maybe they did it.”

  “Priests?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “No. Spiritual people. Funny clothes and titles prove membership in an organization, not spiritualism.”

  Silence lingered in the car for another thirty minutes.

  The Harbinger extended its arm, pointing down.

  “Guess we’re here.” Kirsten slowed from 350 to 200 and pitched the car into a dive.

  She reduced speed to seventy once they neared the ground. The shadowy arm extended again and pointed left. She leveled off at thirty feet and followed its directions until it indicated she should land. Kirsten set the patrol craft down in the nearest opening among a long line of shot-up husks that used to be passenger cars parked at the side of the road. One or two looked like they might still even drive. Mostly-ruined high-rises lined both sides of the street, aglow in green and pink holograms from three bars and a Chinese food place, the only operating businesses in sight. They’d wound up in a rough neighborhood only ninety meters from a grey zone. Light pedestrian traffic flowed in two directions, oblivious or unconcerned with a police patrol craft.

  The Harbinger drifted out of the car, causing a dark spot where the restaurant’s signage failed. Kirsten shut down the drive system and got out. The area didn’t look too bad, certainly not so dangerous that she worried someone would steal or damage the patrol craft. She rounded the nose end and walked after the departing Harbinger.

  Holographic signs, streetlights, NetMinis, NanoLED tattoos, and any other electronic device emitting a glow darkened in a modest radius around the Harbinger, making the creature appear to give off negative light.

  People turned to watch the spot of nothingness drifting by. No one reacted to Kirsten’s uniform—perhaps between the late hour and slow-gliding blackout, they didn’t recognize it. Black fabric in a poorly lit section of the city blended in well. She followed the Harbinger to the end of the block. It took the corner around a bar, momentarily shutting down every light inside and causing a mild panic.

  Like a robot with a singular purpose, it advanced at a steady speed, not looking back, not hesitating. At the next block, it crossed the street, oblivious to a car that drove through it and conked out. Kirsten ignored the man screaming about his piece of shit. When the Harbinger moved out of range, the e-motors in all four wheels kicked back on, right at the speed they’d been spinning before shutting down, hurtling the car into a wild spin-out. T
he driver barely managed to avoid slamming into a building, recovering at the last minute. The car wound up on the sidewalk, sideways between a vendomat and a PubTran kiosk.

  The Harbinger entered an alley and continued going for a few blocks. Kirsten looked up at the high-rises, certain they’d crossed over into a grey zone. Synthbeer canisters, a waft of chems in the air, and a prickling psionic sense made her think that people had been here recently.

  They probably felt us coming and ran for cover.

  Even non-psionics could pick up on the direness of a Harbinger in the area. A sudden, intense feeling of danger or that something was quite wrong usually made people go away. Kirsten didn’t mind. Fewer people made for fewer problems, especially in grey zones.

  Upon reaching a decrepit eighty-story building still bearing metal lettering that identified it as ‘The Grand Providence Hotel,’ the Harbinger swerved to the left and entered via a huge crack in the wall. The building looked as though a large truck or similar vehicle had crashed into it. Fragments of rubble still littered the ground, both inside and out, though the damage appeared decades’ old. The interior consisted of bare thermacrete walls coated in graffiti, many with such large holes exposing rebar.

  She gawked at the holes. Holy shit. Do the locals have missile launchers?

  The Harbinger stopped in the middle of the space.

  Kirsten wandered in a circle, gazing around at the destruction. “Are we where you wanted me to go?”

  It nodded.

  Old autoinjectors, drug derms, tons of Cyberburger plastic clamshell cases, and other scraps littered the floor near the walls, along with a handful of improvised sleeping mats. The place stank with a mixture of wet dog and rotting Chinese food. Fortunately, none of the residents appeared to be home at the moment. It appeared as though at least a dozen people had set up defined areas of ‘personal space.’

  “There’s nothing here.”

  The Harbinger raised a shadowy hand.

  “Wait?” asked Kirsten.

  It nodded.

  Kirsten stood there for a little while feeling nervous and confused. This level of interaction with a Harbinger both terrified and fascinated her. Eventually, she calmed enough to take out her NetMini, but found it dark. She side-eyed the Harbinger, and edged away from it until the device powered back up. Once it came online, she sent a text message to Evan. ‹This is going to take longer than I thought. You’ll be in bed before I’m back. Do you want to sleep at Nila’s, or should I carry you home when I’m done?›

  A chirp came from the device a moment later.

  ‹I can sleep here but if you’re squeezy, come get me. Love you.›

  She choked up a little, and slid the NetMini back into its holder on her belt.

  They stood in relative silence for about eleven minutes, at which point, the distant scuff of footsteps became noticeable, growing louder. The Harbinger pointed at the wall. Kirsten crept over to the breach she’d entered from and peered out.

  A woman, younger twenties, wearing an expensive skirt suit and high heels, strolled by with a slow, meandering gait that swished her long, violet hair side to side and made her appear intoxicated. Kirsten stepped out onto the sidewalk behind the woman, not entirely sure what she’d been brought here to see.

  The woman approached a fallen vendomat beside a light pole at the corner. She sidled up to the boxy machine, pulled her skirt up to expose herself below the waist, then removed a pair of handcuffs from her purse before locking one end around her left wrist.

  Shit! It’s Malden!

  Kirsten sprinted at her, channeling mental energy into the lash. Shadows crawled over the buildings from the scintillating blue-white light, tiny bits of trash stretched to gargantuan proportion. The woman bent over the vendomat, stretching to get her arms around the light pole.

  She swiped the lash down into the woman’s back.

  In a burst of dim white-grey light, Malden Walker went flying out of her, landing on his chest in a slide that spun to a halt in the middle of an abandoned intersection. A startled scream came from the woman.

  Kirsten jumped the vendomat, boots crunching on fragments of smashed plastic, coiling the lash for another swipe.

  “Crap!” not-quite-yelled the woman. “Where the hell am I?”

  Kirsten whipped the lash at Malden before he finished getting to his feet. A blast of light erupted from the contact point, the energy tendril tearing a gash in his insubstantial body. He careened over, rolling.

  The soft clatter of dangling handcuffs accompanied the rapid clicks of nice shoes and the rustle of deep trash.

  Malden’s prone form blurred into an energy blob that stretched vertical before focusing back to his normal appearance, standing. He made to run—but the Harbinger popped up out of the street in front of him. The ghost stopped short and whirled around to go the other way.

  “Hi!” Kirsten swung the lash in a sideways slice, aiming for his chest.

  Growling, Malden dissipated into mist that flowed around her whip, re-solidifying in mid punch. His fist connected with Kirsten’s chest like a block of gelatin fired out of a cannon. She flipped over fully in midair before landing on her front and sliding backward, unable to breathe.

  Dorian leapt in, wrapping himself around Malden for barely two seconds before the man elbowed him in the gut and launched him ass-first through the wall of a building at the corner of the intersection. Malden started to dive into the ground, but the Harbinger welled up beneath him, forcing him back. Kirsten, still seeing spots, dragged herself upright.

  “Problem?” She coughed. Despite the ghostly punch lacking solidity, it felt as if she’d broken a rib.

  “What’s that glowy thing?” asked the trash pile in the woman’s voice.

  “Need a minute, miss,” said Kirsten. “Dealing with an issue at the moment.”

  “Obviously you have issues if you’re talking to nothing.”

  Malden tried to run into the building where he’d thrown Dorian, but the Harbinger swooshed around to block him. Kirsten dashed in swinging low, and scored another hit across his back that let off a muted boom. She gritted her teeth from the wash of loose paranormal energy creating an electric prickle across her front. Screaming in anger and pain, Malden swooned to his knees. Dorian charged out of the wall into a right hook that connected with the ghost’s chin. Malden rocked back, but drove an uppercut into Dorian’s stomach that crumpled him over on top of him. He refused to let go, attempting to drag Malden to the ground in a judo hold.

  Unable to get a clear shot with the lash, Kirsten shot a brief look at the shivering pile of plastic cartons and cups beside an overfull dumpster. “Something possessed you and made you walk out here, right?”

  A hand lifted a carton out of the way; the violet-haired woman stared blank-faced at her.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment. Dealing with the bastard that attacked you.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s a good idea. I’ll, umm, wait here.” The woman lowered the carton back down, hiding.

  Dorian let out a loud oof and went sailing down the street. Malden swerved away from Kirsten, but the Harbinger flowed up like a wall of infinity, blocking him. Kirsten, not too worried about accidentally nicking the Harbinger with the lash, ran in and took a swing.

  “Damn, it. Go away!” shouted Malden, after diving under the glowing cord and launching himself at her.

  Kirsten focused on his presence, trying to ‘block’ his approach the way she’d held back the crazy doctor at the Saguaro Asylum. Latching onto a sense of his existence at the back of her mind, she wrapped her psionic energy around it and pushed. Malden’s leap slowed to a near standstill in midair. He sank to the ground, forcing himself closer, step by step as if in slow motion.

  “Bitch!” Malden roared and surged at her. The crash of his energy into her psionic will knocked her on her back. He ran right over her, intending to flee.

  She rolled onto her stomach and changed her focus from pushing him away to pulling him back.
For a few seconds, Malden appeared to be attempting to walk into a hurricane, barely inching forward. Kirsten grunted with the exertion of fighting such a powerful spirit, drawing strength from her desperation not to let him attack any more innocent women.

  Two pulses of white energy hit Malden in the back, having come from Dorian’s direction. He ‘fired’ again, striking the ghost in the back of the head. The shots hit with little more effect than hard punches, barely disrupting Malden’s essence. Though Dorian’s weapon looked like an E-90, he only projected a spectral attack no more powerful than him punching someone. The dark spirit grunted, fighting Kirsten’s control enough to twist toward Dorian and raise an empty hand as if holding a pistol. A giant gun appeared in his grip and went off several times, each shot a streak of whitish energy.

  With Malden distracted shooting at Dorian, Kirsten jumped to her feet. Malden saw her coming and tried to flee, but everywhere he turned, the Harbinger hemmed him in. He spun back toward Kirsten, and cocked his fist.

  Screaming in a mixture of rage and frustration, Kirsten grabbed the lash in both hands, plowing it straight down on top of Malden, hoping to hit him before she went flying again. The energy whip burrowed into his body, meeting squidgy resistance and becoming stuck, more than half its length dangling out the other side of his body. She twisted to the right and leaned backward, his giant fist passing over her left shoulder. With a grunt, she whirled away, ripping the psionic whip loose.

  Malden emitted an agonized groan and stumbled down to one knee.

  She continued the spin, following through with another crossing slash to his chest.

  At the moment of contact, a rippling pulse of white energy burst out of him, expanding in a ring. It blasted him flat on his back and washed over her like a rain of freezing needles; she screamed in pain, involuntarily cringing into a ball. The shattering of hundreds of windows exploding filled the silence in the wake of the spectral blast.

  Shaking from being simultaneously frozen and shredded, Kirsten struggled back to her feet.

  Malden rolled onto his side and dragged himself along the road by one hand, his right arm and both legs evidently no longer working.

 

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