Chapter Twelve
"The people I use to know."
-Anonymous
Yarrow Point
Bellevue, Seattle
July 13, 2059
7:22 pm
Nightsky's arm flopped off the bed as he rolled over. He was blissfully unaware of the world. The sleep he was enjoying was dreamless. Peace and calm settled over his aura. He cuddled against the feeling. It brought a feeling of security that he had not known in weeks. There was nothing to worry about for a few precious hours. No cares or problems that needed his attention. The restful peace that he had so longed for had finally found him. The last thing he wanted to do was let it go.
That made it even harder to wake up. The bed was unbelievably soft and the sheets felt like satin or something equally luxurious. The air was pure and chilly. Just like he liked it. His eyes saw the setting sun through wall to ceiling windows. He stared for a moment as the sun touched the endless sea. Another hour or so and the sun would be over the horizon. Until then it bathed the sky a scarlet blue and brilliant yellow. There were no clouds to hide its splendor. It was beautiful.
At about this time the rational part of Nightsky's mind shook him back to reality.
Where was he? How did he get here? What day is it?
Questions poured through his mind like wine into a glass. He sat up, surprised to feel no ache or pain in his body. He felt great. Though feeling great did not set his mind at ease. It made him uncomfortable. At the very least he expected to have a splitting headache from that wail. The last thing he remembered was the elf opening his horrible mouth. That piercing scream pounded his mind into blackness.
"Oh, you're awake?" Shard said from the doorway. She wore fine, sparkling green paints and a green top with red strips. Her extravagant here was just as dazzling as ever. It fell over her face in long shards. A bowl of soup was in her hands. "Want something to eat?"
"Shard? What?" He stuttered. "How did I get here?"
Shard crossed the room. As she did Nightsky noticed where he was. The view out the window and the elf's presence meant that he was in Shard's condo near downtown Seattle. Nightsky had no idea how he got here.
"You don't remember? No, I don't think you would. You were unconscious when you arrived. I might add that you were looking a little rough too."
Nightsky touched his wrist where the shackles had rubbed his skin raw. They looked fine now.
"Oh, I healed you. Nothing was really life threatening." Shard explained. "Actually, you're a lot easier to work magic on than, say, Smiley. Smiley and even Lenny to some degree have all that metal in them. It makes it hard for me to heal their bodies." She offered the bowl of soup. "Hungry?"
"Uhm...no." He was starving. "How did I get here again?"
Shard sat the soup on a table next to the bed. "Gideon brought you here early this morning. You've been asleep since then."
"Gideon!?" Nightsky blurted in shock. None of the team had seen the ork mercenary since he disappeared more than four month ago. "Where is he?"
Shard shrugged. "He left after he dropped you off."
"Did he say he was going to be back? Did he say anything for that matter."
"I was just as surprised to see him as you were. I never knew what made him leave in the first place. In case you forgot I wasn't in on that run until the very end. Lenny doesn't like talking about it so I can't ask him. Nobody else seems to know."
Nightsky sighed, his glance dropping across the floor. He was trying to figure out why Gideon had come out of no where, saved him from that vampire den, and brought him to Shard. If he could find the ork maybe he could get some answers. "I don't suppose you know where he lives?"
Shard shook her head. "I never knew where he went between runs."
"Lot of help that is." Nightsky added sarcastically.
"Do you want this soup or not?"
"What?" He noticed the bowl for the first time. "Oh, the soup. Sure."
"Do you mind me asking what happened? The marks on you're wrists were from restraints."
"Do you remember at the airport when I asked if you had ever had a normal life?"
Shard nodded.
"I had a normal life too a long time ago when I was little. I lost that when my family was killed and broken up. I always thought that I wanted that life back." Nightsky sighed. "But now I don't think I want that at all. I had a chance for it, but I turned it down." The two exchanged glances. "I'd rather not talk about it anymore."
Shard stood. "I'll be outside if you need me."
Nightsky watched her go. The door closed quietly behind her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he reminded himself that he was in a mage's condo. There were probably watcher spirits in astral space watching him. He smirked at his thoughts. To think after all of this time he still couldn't relax around Shard. Even though they had been running the shadows together for most of the year.
Of course, what if it wasn't Gideon? What if whoever brought him here only looked like Gideon?
Nightsky dismissed that idea. Shard wouldn't have let a complete stranger into her home. If there was any magical masking she could have seen through it. Of course, Shard could have made up the whole thing, but she didn't have any reason to lie to him either. Nightsky was left at a dead end.
"More important things to worry about." He reminded himself.
Nightsky hopped out of bed, suddenly aware of his situation. He had not escaped his capture, but merely delayed it. Imira was still out in Seattle somewhere. He had to find her. He had to find her again. This time on equal terms. No more games.
As Nightsky opened the door he discovered something. Groaning, he yanked the sheet off the bed.
"Shard? Can I have my clothes back?"
Nightsky's Doss
Tacoma, Seattle
8:05 pm
The door slowly creaked open. A small knife slipped through the creak. It snipped the wire leading to the fragmentation grenade, disabling the booby trap. The door opens further. A shadowy figure steps over the monowire stringed in the doorway. As the door shuts the maglock automatically engages.
Nightsky peaked around the doorway into the main room. He could see the front door. It was locked. Not surprising because the maglock on the front door automatically sealed when the door closed. Though he guessed the concussion grenade that booby trapped the front door had been disconnected.
He looked around once more before loosening a chunk of paneling next to the back door. A small bag rested on the other side of the fake walling. It contained a credstick, change of clothes, keys to his bike, a compact bug scanner, and a pistol. As well as more mundane things like a toothbrush, soap, and deodorant. There was also a one-way ticket to California in a false name, but Nightsky doubted he would be using that.
After double checking the bags contents Nightsky removed the pistol. He made a sweep of the place. Once he was satisfied it was deserted, he went to the bedroom. The Sai, which had pierced the shoulder of that punk Willis, lay on the floor. A small pool of dried blood was also near it. Nightsky picked up the knife. The sharpened blade had dried blood on it. Nightsky picked at it, idly wondering it Shard could use it to trace the gutterpunk. He don't know enough about magic to have any grasp of the processes that would need to be done.
He scraped off the red remains on the bedpost. It didn't matter now anyway.
Nightsky headed for the for the back door instead of the front. He looked automatically as he left. Staying in this place made him uneasy. People had already found him once here. It seemed like a good idea not to be around when they came back. He had to be extra cautious in his approach and departure from this place. Though he had not seen anyone watching the doss, it seemed logical that if Imira wanted to find him this would be the place to start.
Nightsky cut quietly through the alleys. He passed squatters huddled around trash can fires. The squatters didn't pay him much attention. Even though he gave them a wider berth than usual. The chatted idly among themselves. Nightsky caught snippets of conversation as he passed.
"Looks like rain. I hate the rain. It burns."
"........heard Lone Star cracking down on chippers tonight............."
".....Audrey's gone. Taken by the pale horse last night she was."
"....give me a swig of that bottle!"
"........McHugh's dumpster's locked. No supper........"
None of them seemed particularly threatening. Until a large ork stepped in Nightsky's path. The ork flexed his arm and gave a sinister looking grin. One of the ork's tusks had been broken. Decay had settled in, turning the stump into a combination of black and yellow.
"What you got in the bag, shorty?" He sneered.
Nightsky was in no mood for this. He brought the Ultra Power against the ork's groin. "You're family life if you don't get out of the way."
The ork backed off as the barrel pressed against his pride. "Hey, cool man. Just asking." He slithered back to the trashcan.
Squatters. They're a strange bunch. Some of them want to be left alone. Some of them are looking for anyway to get ahead. Fortunately, most of them know when to back off. They're smart that way. It is what keeps them alive.
Nightsky passed without a second glance. He kept walking until he reached the parking lot of a club called "Mr. Meaners". The place was just as crowded as ever. Club goers lined the sidewalk outside of the main door. Each of them tried to jockey their way inside. A group of people walk right up to the door. They're dressed in bright green jackets that sparkle against the large lights above the club. The bouncer, a meaty man Nightsky knows as Grunt, lets them in without a second glance. Nightsky isn't surprised because those in the green jackets are "Irishmen Lowlanders", a small go-gang that operates around the nearby interstate. Nothing will ever come of them as they are competing against the troll go-gangers, the Spikes. Still, the Irishmen are not without their uses. They use the club as a base of operations. They're always one of their bikes parked out front. None of the squatters of thieves jack any of the vehicles parked in the lot because most all of them belong to the go-gang. That makes the club a perfect place for Nightsky to stash his bike without worrying about it being stolen.
As he approaches the parking lot he finds his Yamaha Rapier right here he left it. The bike's green frame and black highlights blend in perfectly when the surrounding vehicles. Nightsky sweeps the bike with the bug scanner from his bag. The scanner's small size made searching the bike more time consuming that normal. The bag fits neatly onto the back of the bike, tied down with battery cables. Nightsky pauses only for a moment to pull the shoulder holster for the pistol out of the bag.
Tacoma's streets are buzzing with activity. Friday night in the sprawl. Tacoma is mostly blue color that works five days a week. Friday nights is a time to unwind. The clubs pack out, the bars fill up, and the streets clog with people. It makes for a crowded evening, but little else. Lone Star rarely has to deal with anything as things rarely get out of hand.
Ironically, today is Friday the 13th.
Nightsky pulled his bike to a stop on the curve next to a payphone. He shoved the door open and slotted his credstick. He punched in a number forcefully on the keypad. A Eurocar blew through the intersection with its horn blazing. A handful of teenagers tossed beer cans on the street as the car passed. The noise from the street made him shut the door.
The telecom rang once before it displayed a busy message. Nightsky cut the call with a curse and redailed. This time it rang twice before displaying the same message.
"Come on, Tart, I know you're there. I know you can hear the 'comm. Answer it." Nightsky muttered as he dailed.
This time she answered. The video clicked on with a semi-transparent representation of Tart. The background was filled with electronic streams of information and data. It was a generic background. The telecom itself did not have the processing power to display the true node Tart occupied. Tart was playing in the Matrix.
"Oh, Nightsky. I didn't know it was you. I heard you were on a job with Lenny." Tart's voice was synthetic. A production of coded data her persona sent through the datastreams.
"Yeah, I was." Nightsky said, trying to make himself sound calm. It was hard to tell if he succeeded. He didn't know if an emotion could be transferred through the Matrix. "It's over now."
"Everything went okay, didn't it?"
"Oh yeah, everything went fine." Nightsky shrugged. "Look, I need some information and you're the only person I know that can get it. Do you mind doing a little hunting for me?"
"I guess so."
"I need to know all you can find on someone called Imira Folkstaff. Just information on her activities in Seattle. Don't be surprised if you don't find much."
"Okay."
"One other thing. There can't be that many Folkstaff's in Seattle. So see if you can find any Folkstaff that's in their mid to late teens, female, and probably attends a private school. A doubt it will be corporate furnished, though."
"That's a little thin, don't you think? I mean, I might not turn up anything. It's like searching for a chip in a pile of magnets."
"What I really need out of all of this is an address, Tart."
"Okay, Nightsky, I'll see what I can discover. It doesn't sound too dangerous. Where can I reach you?"
"You've got my pager number?"
"Let me check.........................yes, I do."
"Give me a buzz on that. I'm going to be on the road, so don't be surprised if it takes a while for me to get back to you."
"This shouldn't take more than an hour."
"I scan. Thanks, Tart." Nightsky cut the call off.
The traffic started moving again as the light changed. Nightsky watched the cars pass. The lights flashed lazily across the phone booth. Nightsky put his hand against the plexiglass.
"Now, Sand." He said to himself. "How did you get where you are?"