by Martha Carr
Peyton blinked several times as the gears in his brain finally turned. She’d been helping with research that could be applied to spacecraft and was now helping with research for probes that could communicate with aliens. A general pattern was emerging of a project to reach out and touch someone or something alien and non-Oriceran.
Are they just doing it because of scientific curiosity, or do they know more than anyone thinks?
Amber smiled. “There’s a lot of interesting research, after all, about non-Oriceran extraterrestrials. People have spent a lot of time assuming every ancient alien thing was them, but now others are starting to question that.” She shook her head. “It’s strange how people kind of just almost forgot about the idea there could be life on other planets when we found out about Oriceran.” She shook a finger. “If you think about it, the fact there are thousands of intelligent species over there only increases the chance that somewhere close to us, in our galaxy rather than a different dimension, is another planet with an intelligent species.” She let out a sigh. “Even magic has its limits, especially at huge distances and when the magic users haven’t dealt with the other planet directly, but if we combine magic and technology, we should be able to achieve the dream of extraterrestrial contact.”
“You don’t say?” Peyton forced a smile onto his face. “That’s pretty intense. I didn’t even realize you were involved in that kind of thing. That’s crazy.” He threw up a hand. “Crazy in a good way. I mean, it’s awesome that you’re involved in that kind of thing.”
Self-control. I can’t blurt out that I know all about the secret government projects that have already proven aliens exist. Even if it scored massive points with my girlfriend, Shay would put me into a probe and send me to the edge of the Solar System or use magic to drop me into some goblin garbage dump on Oriceran.
Amber nodded and rubbed her hands together. She looked around before leaning toward Peyton. “I know it sounds crazy, but some people think that there’s non-Oriceran intelligent life on Earth right now. No one can prove it a hundred percent, though.”
Aliens like James Brownstone.
“Interesting.” He shrugged. “Considering all the weird stuff here, it doesn’t really sound that crazy.”
“You’d think so.” Amber frowned. “But you’d be surprised how much pushback there is in academia over that kind of research.”
Peyton chuckled a little and shrugged. “I find it funny that in a world where we have to seriously worry about things like necromancers, people find the idea of a few little green men so out there. I mean, to me at least, discovering magic seems like a bigger deal than finding other guys who invented tools and nukes.”
“I know.” Amber shook her head and rolled her eyes. “That’s the problem. Paradigms lock too easily. Everyone wants to pretend like they know the answers so they can look smart.” She sighed. “Anyway, lot of people in the department doing a lot of interesting research, and maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think they’re closer to being able to prove some of this stuff than people think.” She patted the edge of the table. “Which is why we’re moving on to some of these more direct projects. If we know aliens are here, that makes contacting them either here or elsewhere just a matter of applied engineering, right?”
Peyton nodded slowly, keeping his breathing steady. He’d need to tell Shay all this later. When they’d discussed the spacecraft research that might link to vimanas she’d seemed more impressed than annoyed, but if the department were looking seriously into aliens, that might mean they’d end up stumbling onto the truth somehow about Brownstone.
The hacker didn’t want to have to explain to his sometimes very angry, always gun-toting boss how his girlfriend had helped, even indirectly, bring down the government on her boyfriend.
Still, he wasn’t sure if it’d actually be a problem. The general projects described seemed more about phoning ET at home, but there was still that risk.
Shit. Is this the end of my relationship? I lose out on my relationship because of her relationship? Better put on my background researcher hat. If I get some information Shay can use it’ll be less of an issue, or we can do an even better job of protecting Brownstone.
Peyton cleared his throat. “I’m a nerd boy. I’d love to see some of this alien research. You know really dig into the papers and the data.”
Amber sighed and looked away. “I really shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’ve already told you too much, really. Look, I’d love to, and I’m sure eventually they’ll publish it, but right now you don’t have the clearance to look at the data or the initial reports.”
"What do you mean, clearance? It’s scientific research, not CIA spy plans.”
“Most of our funding is from the government.”
Peyton shrugged. “And how is that different from most research? Half the politicians complain about all the tax dollars being spent on research about stuff they don’t understand. I wouldn’t be surprised if the next election, someone’s complaining about spending taxpayer dollars on looking for aliens.”
Amber shook her head. “It’s not run-of-the-mill NSF funding or anything like that. Lots of special DOE and DOD money. It’s annoying. Lots of restrictions. No foreign nationals, which means no Oricerans or people who are too wrapped up in Oriceran stuff, which excludes a large chunk of the magic-using population. You know how hard it is to do magic-adjacent research with those kinds of limitations?”
Peyton stared down at the equipment covering the table, his stomach tightening and a chill running down his spine. A government project that involved potential contact with extraterrestrials and had a high security clearance.
The temptation to poke around in the university systems to look for financial information rose, but he quickly quashed it.
It has to be Project Nephilim or Project Ragnarok funding. Probably. But I don’t want to poke around and get them looking at Amber in a bad way. Given the kind of bullshit Durand was pulling, who knows what they might do to her if they got suspicious?
Just wonder why they want to chat with aliens but don’t want anyone else to know. Seems mighty paranoid. Preparing to nuke someone we haven’t even talked to yet? Even if they are here, maybe they are just working part-time at In-N-Out.
Peyton forced a smile onto his face. “Oh, well, we all have secrets.”
Peyton blinked as he stared at Shay. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You don’t care?”
Shay shrugged. “No, I don’t. Just don’t tell her what we know and we’ll be fine. Why did you think I’d care?”
“I don’t know. I thought you’d be worried about Brownstone.”
She snorted. “She’s not the one who might go after Brownstone. If anything, she might be useful later on. Time to go old-school spy. Seduce the target if necessary. Screw your way to useful information.”
Peyton groaned. “Do you honestly not care, or is this just a thing where you think you can use her later?”
“Both.” Shay shrugged. “Anyway, no, I don’t give a shit if you keep getting sweaty in the sheets with the nerd girl. If it becomes a problem, we’ll handle it.”
Peyton nodded slowly, still surprised. He didn’t have to dump his girlfriend. If anything, Shay was telling him to double down on their relationship.
She rolled her eyes. “And wipe that grin off your face. We’ve got more important shit to talk about than your girlfriend.”
“Like what?”
“Weber’s files.”
A rooster crowed loudly from Peyton’s computer.
No, no, no. Come on, Randy.
He frowned and spun toward the computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard, and then his jaw dropped.
Shay stepped into the office with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Randy…” Peyton shook his head. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What about your asshole brother?”
Peyton swallowed. “He’s dead.”
/> Shay arched a brow. “He’s dead?” Peyton nodded. “That’s convenient.”
“Convenient? That’s my brother you’re talking about!”
She rolled her eyes. “Your brother who tried to have you killed. Your brother who kept after you even after we tried to Scrooge him. We had to screw up his finances to get him to stop because he was such a greedy fuck. So, yeah, I’m not mourning the loss of Randy ‘Fratricide’ Coolidge.”
Peyton ran his hands through his hair. “Look, not saying he was a great guy. Just, it’s a shock, you know?”
“What happened?”
“From what I can tell, some hitman said he set them up and got several of them killed. They took him out in revenge.”
Shay clucked her tongue. “This is the problem when amateurs start rolling around in this shit. They don’t know who they’re dealing with, and they end up dead because they think they are big men.”
“And you had nothing to do with this?”
She snorted. “I don’t need hitmen to kill people for me. If I were gonna kill your brother, I would have walked up to him and stabbed him in the throat with a fucking knife. Being all cute about it is for pussies.”
Peyton locked eyes with the tomb raider. Something about the whole thing smelled off. He wouldn’t put it past Shay to set up his brother, but on the other hand, pursuing it wouldn’t do any good. Randy was dead, and that was that.
Probably better that I don’t know the total truth.
He blew out a breath. “I guess that’s it, then. He’s dead, and it’s all over.”
Shay nodded. “Yeah. This means you can start taking your life back. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
She grinned. “Right now, we still have those files to discuss.”
Shay frowned as she took a corner in her Fiat.
Peyton’s initial dive into Dr. Weber’s files coupled with her efforts didn’t reveal the kind of treasure she’d expect gang members to care about. They were typical archaeology papers, just with a few fanciful conclusions about the possible meanings of certain symbols and chemical analyses on the site. The only thing that stood out to Shay were some specific coordinates mentioned as possible portal entry-to-exit points.
Why the fuck would the Demon Generals give a shit about some old archaeology site? Even if there were artifacts there, it’s not like they would be able to recover them, and they’ve never, ever shown interest in anything but petty street hustles and thug shit before.
Still, she didn’t want to let it go. Despite what a lot of people thought, most criminals were both logical and lazy at the same time, especially common thugs. If the gang members were sniffing around Dr. Weber, it meant that for whatever reason, they thought there was something there of value.
Shay’s phone rang, and she glanced at the screen in the middle of her dashboard. The miracle of Bluetooth pairing. She blinked at the number. Lily.
She switched to speakerphone as she stopped at a red light. “Lily?”
Someone panted at the other end, not talking.
“Lily, is that you?”
“It’s me, Shay,” the girl finally responded. “Sorry, I just had to catch my breath.” There was some scratching, and when she next spoke, she sounded distant. “Is Casey okay? What? Use the potion then. Yeah, I know how expensive it is, but she might not make it if we take her to a hospital.”
The light turned green, and Shay accelerated with a frown. “What the hell is going on?”
“Sorry, we were attacked. They came out of nowhere. We were barely able to hold them off, and a lot of people got hurt.” Lily took a deep breath. “I need your help, Shay.” Her voice trembled with rage.
Shay took a hard turn at the next intersection. She was going the wrong way if she had to go to the main nuclear tunnels entrance. “Was anybody killed?”
“No, a couple of people were banged up pretty badly, but everyone’s alive. Casey took a bullet to the stomach, but it looks like the potion’s working.” She sighed. “I had a vision a minute before the attack, so we weren’t taken totally by surprise, but it was too late to escape.”
“Who were they?”
Lily sighed. “Don’t know. They had all these stupid masks on, like Halloween masks.”
Shay pulled onto an onramp. She needed to get the tunnels faster than surface streets would allow. “What did they want?”
“Artifacts.” Lily’s breathing picked up. “They took my father’s artifact from me, those sons of bitches. And a couple other things from other people.”
“Shit. Okay, wizards then?”
“I don’t think so. Didn’t see any wands. A few of them had artifacts, like little things. One fired out little blue bolts, another was a ring with shields, but most of them just used guns, knives, or were punching and kicking people.” Lily sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t lose my father’s artifact, not again. I don’t care who they are. If I faced the witch, I can face these guys. I’ll kill them if I have to.”
Shay sighed. It wasn’t all that long ago that some random homeless teens getting attacked wouldn’t have fazed her. She would have pushed it away as not her business, but now there was only one response she could offer.
“I’ll be right there, Lily. I’ll help you find those assholes. We’ll get your father’s artifact back, and we’ll make them pay, but don’t do anything yourself. If you’re dealing with violent thugs, you need a professional ass-kicker, and I just happen to know one who will be willing to help you for free.”
Shay moved into the passing lane and accelerated. Too many things were unraveling at once. It was time for some situational triage.
She had no idea why the Demon Generals were poking around the college, but they’d failed to get what they wanted. The department head would be safe for a few days. The Anzick mystery would have just to wait until she helped her friend.
Huh. Yeah, that’s what this is, helping a friend. It’s a normal thing for most people, but still weird for me to wrap my mind around.
14
Shay stepped into the Great Treaty and made her way to the bar, ignoring the menagerie of Oricerans filling the bar and the bizarre layered dissonant chords coming over the speakers. The three-legged, three-armed creatures on the dance floor seemed to be enjoying the hell out of the song, though.
She was there for business. At this point in her career, she understood that it didn’t matter how weird someone looked. In the end, all intelligent beings she’d dealt with seemed to operate from the same basic motivations.
Wings or tentacles don’t erase greed or love. The Oricerans might have magic and some might live longer, but they aren’t that different from us, for good or ill.
During her talk with Harry and Lily, she hadn’t learned much more than she’d already been told. Someone had ambushed the kids, but the attackers seemed more concerned about artifacts, including threatening the kids while explicitly asking for specific ones.
The tomb raider’s mind ticked away as she considered what the slim evidence she had indicated. Everything would make sense if she put all the pieces together in the right way.
First, the assholes knew where the kids lived. That meant they had good intelligence or access to tracking magic. A lot of people don’t even know about those teens.
Second, the assholes knew that some of the kids had artifacts, or at least knew they were magical and might have access to artifacts.
Three, they had enough discipline to jump a bunch at once and didn’t care about using force against teenagers. From what Lily said, Casey would have been toast without the healing potion. That meant these assholes weren’t Hollingsworth-style guys in it for the thrills, but seriously ruthless mercenaries or tomb raiders who don’t care about killing innocent people.
Shay frowned and took a seat at the bar. The Kilomea bartender sauntered over and set a whiskey sour in front of her, and she looked up at him with an arched brow. She’d been thinking about that very drink on her way over and was still unsure i
f the bartender’s ability to anticipate drinks was talent or supernatural.
I guess it doesn’t matter as long as he gets the drink right.
The tomb raider picked up her glass and took a sip, enjoying the burn as it slid down her throat. A few more sips followed. A little alcohol to soothe her nerves wasn’t a bad thing.
“Gnome’s not here,” the Kilomea rumbled. For a moment, his grinding voice reminded her of James. The frown on his face did, too.
“Not interested in Tubal-Cain, not today.” Shay gulped some more of her drink. “Interesting in talking with someone who can give me information about shit happening on the streets, artifact-related. Minor thefts and robberies.”
“Lots of people can do that.” He shrugged. “Why would they want to, though? Just because you’ve been in here a few times doesn’t mean anyone trusts you.”
Shay snorted. “Trust is overrated.” She produced a nice stack of high-value bills from the pocket of her leather jacket and pushed it toward the Kilomea. “Figured you’d appreciate cash instead of something with an electronic trail.”
The bartender pocketed the cash and nodded toward a corner table. A weathered-looking Wood Elf with a jagged scar running down his face sat there sipping some glowing blue concoction.
Shay took a moment to down the rest of her drink. “Thanks.”
The Kilomea shook his head. “I’m just giving you a person to talk to. I don’t guarantee anything. Be careful. That elf’s not to be trusted, but he can give you good info.”
She grinned. “I can be very persuasive.”
With that, Shay hopped off the stool and walked over to the table. The elf looked up as she arrived, a thin frown on his face. The expression made his scar even more pronounced.
“Do I know you, human?”
She shrugged. “Shay Carson.”