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  • 4 weeks later...

The Copper Breach
1
I sat in the sun window and watched the street outside. Dust floated in the air. I
rubbed my ear with a paw. A cart rolled up outside. The visitor looked up where the
house should be, but Addison had the house spinning outside time and space.

 

“Are you expecting company?,” I asked my roommate Omes. He looked up from the
papers on his desk. His expression said no.

 

“Addison?,” he asked. He pushed his work into a case and placed the case between
his desk and the wall.

 

“You have one man at the dock,” said the voice of our landlord. “Should I allow him
inside?”

 

“Let’s see what he wants,” said Omes. “Maybe a case will clear some of the cobwebs
in my brain.”

 

The house stopped spinning with a thump. The outer door opened so our guest could
enter. As soon as he was in the foyer, Addison started spinning the house again.

 

Omes stood, hands in his pockets. He watched our visitor step in the parlor. I waited
in the window sill. If our guest turned violent, Omes depended on me to wreck him
before he could do anything.

 

It was my pleasure.

 

“Murdock Omes?,” asked the visitor.

 

“That’s right,” said Omes. He extended a hand to point at the couch we kept for
visitors and my napping when I wasn’t in the sun window. “Please sit down. What
can I do for you?”

 

“You seem young to be an investigator,” said the man. He wore sandy boots, dark
breeches and shirt. A tan coat completed the ensemble.

 

“I get that a lot,” said Omes. He smiled. “What can I do for you?”

 

“I don’t know,” said the visitor. “Now that I see you, I don’t know if you can help me.
This is about a woman.”

 

“I see,” said Omes. His expression said he didn’t see at all. He looked at me. I rubbed
an ear. Normally, I like to enjoy my time off. I decided that maybe I should take
things in my paws.

 

At the very least, it would get rid of the oaf so I could go back to napping and
enjoying the sun on my fur.

 

“Why don’t you state the problem?,” I said. “Then all of us will know that you’re
beyond help, and you can quit wasting my time.”

 

He looked at me with irritation. I looked back at him with boredom. I was getting
ready to suggest to his nerves that his face was on fire. That should liven things up
for a few minutes.

 

“Dr. Witsend is right,” said Omes. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem
is.”

 

“My name is Bernard Almeins,” said our visitor. “I am engaged to be married to a
young woman named Celeste Daniels. The problem is Celeste says she doesn’t know
me, and I should quit trying to talk to her.”

 

“That seems straightforward,” I said. “Find yourself a new mate.”

 

“I can’t,” said Almeins. “I can’t move forward unless Celeste dissolves our contract,
but since she acts like we never met before I ran into her, there’s no way I can get her
to listen and sign the paperwork. And I don’t want to do that. I want to know what
happened to her. I feel like something has. I think someone erased her memory of
me.”

 

“That’s a strong conclusion to arrive at, Mr. Almeins,” said Omes. “Do you have any
evidence for it?”

 

“I have pictures of us together,” said Almeins. “I have letters. I have a souvenir of a
trip we took together. And she didn’t recognize me. I looked her in the eye, and she
seemed afraid of me for accosting her in the street.”

 

“What do you think, Witsend?,” asked Omes. The neurons fired in his brain. His
blood was stirring up like an old hound on the hunt. He wanted to take a look at this
at the very least.

 

“There are several medical and chemical conditions that could cause a partial
amnesia,” I allowed. I have never heard of one subject being deleted except as
something from a Ministry of War test trial to redact specific information from the
subject while leaving the rest of the brain intact. It usually caused the subject to fall
into a paranoid state from the paperwork I saw.

 

“Where did this take place?,” asked Omes. “We’re going to have to look at this
woman for ourselves.”

 

“Also there might not be a cure for this condition,” I warned. “You might have to
consult with an advocate and see what you can do about your legal responsibilities.”

 

“I live in the Upper Qiloth,” said Almeins. He handed over a card. “That’s my address
at home.”

 

“Where does the young woman live?,” asked Omes. “We might need to look around
her place to check for any chemical problem.”

 

Almeins took the card back and wrote on it with a pen. He handed the card back. 

 

“All right,” said Omes. He put the card on his desk. “We’ll go up to the Upper Qiloth
for you and see what we can see. I can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to do anything
to repair your relationship.”

 

“I just want to know what happened,” said Almeins. “Two weeks ago, we were
talking about our wedding, and now this.”

 

“Has anything happened in the last two weeks?,” asked Omes.

 

“Not as far as I know,” said Almeins. “Her father has come across some copper
deposits on their land, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

 

“Did he find the copper first, or did your fiancé lose her memory first,” asked Omes.

 

“I don’t know,” said Almeins. “I think it was about the same time, but I’m not
sure because I hadn’t talked to Celeste for a couple of days which was odd,
and then I heard about the mine.”

 

“All right,” said Omes. “I want you to go home. I have some things to do here
in the city, and Dr. Witsend will have to rearrange his schedule. We’ll be up to
look at your young lady the day after tomorrow. Whatever we can do, we will.”

 

“Thank you,” said Almeins, standing up. His gaze fell on a captured explosion sitting
on the shelf by Omes’s desk. It rested next to the skull Omes had found earlier. “What
is that?”

 

“A souvenir from a case.” Omes smiled. “Don’t worry about things. We’ll do what
we can for your problem, or recommend someone who can do something.”

 

“Thank you, Master Omes,” said Almeins. “I would like to know what happened.”

 

“Who doesn’t?,” said Omes. A smile crossed his eleven year old features. He gestured
for the man to precede him out of the parlor. There was a thump of Addison touching
reality, then Omes was back with a touch of glee in his air.

 

“What do you make of it, Witsend?,” asked Omes. He rubbed his hands together.

 

I rubbed an ear, gave him a look, and then closed my eyes. I leaned against the
sun window to enjoy the beam of light on my fur.

 

“Oh, I see,” said Omes. “You’re going for this is a nothing case that will have nothing
consequences.”

 

I didn’t admit that was what I thought.

 

“But you see, I don’t care,” said Omes. “We’re looking into it anyway.”

 

“I thought you were a detective, not a fixer of lost romance,” I said. I decided
to enjoy what I could of the Sun Window. We weren’t going up to the Upper
Q in a few days. I could already see that.

 

We were going as soon as Omes made arrangements for things he was working on,
and as soon as I called Elga.

 

“This has something more about it,” said Omes. He sat down at his desk. He touched
the screen that waited for him to dial out. Another screen ran faces through it. A third
had been set up to search property files. “And I can’t do anything until my searches
come back.”

 

Constable Barhart appeared on the screen. She smiled when she saw Omes at the
desk. Her boss, Inspector Strode, had been our biggest helper in Metropole, but we
had soured the relationship by killing a summoner and involving the army.

 

“Murdock Omes,” said Barhart. “How have you been?”

 

“I’m fine, Constable,” said Omes. “We’re coming up to the U. Q. We have a case
there. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the Daniels family. I
understand Mr. Daniels found a copper strike recently.”

 

“That’s right,” said Barhart. “Cedric Daniels made his money in mining. He owns a
lot of land on the edge of the Bend. Sometimes things pop up there that he turns it
into a small fortune.”

 

“Family?,” said Omes.

 

“Married, wife is a society witch. One daughter, Celeste. She is supposed to be
married to a Bernie Almeins in a month from the gossip columns. He’s rich too. Made
his money in spools if I remember right.”

 

“Spools?,” asked Omes.

 

“He supplies most of the world with them from my understanding,” said Barhart.
“What’s the case?”

 

“I’m supposed to find a lost memory,” said Omes.

 

“Good luck with that,” said Barhart. “Let me know if you need my help.”

 

“Thank you, Constable Barhart,” said Omes. “I’m sure that this will be an easy fix.”

 

She laughed at him before she cut the connection.

 

“So part of the story checks out,” said Omes. He looked up train routes to take us up
north from the city.

 

“Are you sure you want to get involved in this?,” I asked. I opened my eyes.

 

“If not us, who?,” he asked.

 

I looked at him with I hope the condescending stare that cats have favored for
generations.

 

“Please, call Elga, so we can leave,” said Omes. He stood up. “I want to wrap this
up as fast as possible.”

 

“All right,” I said. “Things should be light for the next few days anyway.”

 

I dropped down from the sill, crossed the room, jumped up on the desk. I pawed
Elga’s number on the screen. She was off today too. If she was home, that would
make things easier.

 

“Dr. Witsend?,” said Elga Spangler. Her bright eyes and short blond hair gave her a
look of energy. She was my nurse/assistant/office manager. “I thought you were
taking a lazy day.”

 

“That’s every day, Mrs. Spangler,” put in Omes.

 

“We’re going out of town, Elga,” I said. I ignored my roommate for the moment. “I
need you to trade around for say three days.”

 

“I’ll call the office and check,” said Elga. “Another case, eh?”

 

“Omes thinks he can fix broken hearts now,” I said. I rubbed an ear.

 

“Overconfidence,” said Elga. “I’ll fix it for you, Dr.”

 

“Thank you,” I said. I cut the connection.

 

“Overconfidence,” said Omes. “I don’t have that.”

 

I gave him another look.

 

“We can catch the train and be in the Upper Q by midnight,” said Omes. “And we
will have time to eat before we go.”

 

“The Club?,” I asked.

 

“The Club,” agreed Omes.

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2

We took the train up to the Upper Qiloth. We talked about anything but the case.
Omes wondered how many aircraft plied the air over the country. His search for the
missing aircraft from a former case continued, but so far he had not found a match.

 

It was the same with the face of the man we had talked to before he tried to machine
gun us in a trap set in a warehouse on the same case. Omes was abusing his illegal
link to Metropole to find the man, but nothing had come of it.

 

The explanation for these two facts was simple. The man had never been arrested, and
the numbers Omes had gleaned belonged to some other aircraft.

 

He might have to start over if he wanted to hunt down the mastermind, and he wasn’t
ready to give up yet.

 

I was of two minds about this.

 

As a cat, I was proud that he was hunting prey on his own. He couldn’t rely on me to
watch out for him and show him how to do things forever. He had to take down prey
on his own.

 

On the other hand, the man he was hunting was ruthless and had tried to kill both
of us with exploding minions, and a machine gun in the middle of a warehouse. He
could easily get killed trying to hunt this murderer down.

 

As his guardian, it was my duty not to let that happen. I hadn’t figured out how to
accomplish that yet.

 

The train rolled to a stop into the Weymouth station. I waited for Omes to open the
door for our berth before stepping out in the hall. Omes dropped the strap of a bag
across his body as he followed me down the length of the car to the door.

 

He had told me he put contents of the bag together to help us since we didn’t know
when we would run into another scheme of our mastermind. He didn’t want to have
to deal with someone burning up in front of us if he could stop it.

 

I dropped down to the platform, tail twitching. No one seemed to be looking for us.
That was good.

 

Omes stepped down. He looked around. He pulled his bowler on and headed for the
station’s exit.

 

I followed. I kept an eye out. No one was supposed to know we were coming. If
someone did, they had gotten it from Almeins. That could lead to another set of
conclusions to be proven.

 

“Hello, boys,” said Constable Barhart. She wore the great blue coat of her profession
and giant hat over her short hair. She smiled at us as we stopped short.

 

“Cat,” said Toby, the police dog. His furry bulk was a pile on the seat of the police

carriage. You couldn’t see his eyes through the hair, but his brain was cycling as he 
took in our information.

 

“Dog,” I said back. “Move over.”

 

He shifted his bulk enough to allow me to bound up on the bench. I settled with tail
twitching as I sat.

 

“Constable Barhart,” said Omes. He tipped his hat back with his ungauntleted hand.
“What do we owe the pleasure?”

 

“I was just curious how you were going to find this memory,” said Barhart. “The
Inspector doesn’t want you wandering loose on your own also.”

 

“Inspector Stroud still angry about what happened the last time we were here?,” said
Omes.

 

“Yes,” said Toby.

 

The last case we had conducted in the Upper Q involved a magician summoning
strips from a soldier that he had stabbed. We had tracked the man and his gang down
to his headquarters. We breached the invisible wall around the barn being used and
then a fight broke out. Omes killed the mastermind by allowing the field to slice the
man in half. Stroud was not pleased by that.

 

The situation was made worse by my old army trainer seizing everything and giving
Omes and me a pass for what we had done despite the illegality of it.

 

“He’s even more angry at the Army, and the old lady doctor in charge,” said Barhart.

 

“Dr. Karen is a little eccentric,” I said.

 

“Is that right, Fluffy Wuffy?,” Constable Barhart asked with a smile.

 

“You would not be the first person in a uniform I have left to rot somewhere,” I said.
I rubbed an ear.

 

“Touchy,” said Toby. “I got Comfy Womfy.”

 

“Did you like it?,” I asked.

 

“Yep,” said Toby. He shifted slightly. He gave me the dog grin of his breed.

 

“I hate you,” I said.

 

“I know,” said Toby.

 

“This is all well and good,” said Omes. “I don’t think we need a Metropole escort
everywhere.”

 

“Sorry,” said Barhart. “We have our orders. We’re to keep an eye on you no matter
what.”

 

“Since you’re here,” said Omes. He climbed up in the back of the carriage. “We need
a lift to the Daniels estate.”

 

“And why would you need that?,” asked Barhart.

 

“I want to see the lay of the land,” said Omes. “I can’t investigate from out here.”

 

“We can’t let you break in,” said Barhart.

 

“Of course not,” said Omes. “We’ll do our burgling when you have some other
job to do.”

 

“That doesn’t make me want to let you out of my sight,” said Barhart.

 

“Don’t worry, Constable,” said Omes. “If we uncover some criminal conspiracy,
you’ll be the first to know.”

 

“That definitely doesn’t make me want to let you out of my sight,” said Barhart.

 

Omes waved a hand at her to drive. She gave him a look of irritation.

 

“Go ahead, Cassie,” said Toby. “The quicker we give them the tour, the faster we’ll
be shut of them.”

 

“All right,” said Barhart. “But no criminal activities.”

 

“We just got here,” said Omes. “How much can we do with you two sitting on us?”

 

The dog made a sneeze bark of a noise that conveyed his feelings perfectly.

 

Barhart climbed up on the bench. She whistled at the clanking horses that pulled the
carriage. The mechanical horses started down the road, pulling us along stolidly.

 

I let my senses roam out. Several different animals walked close by, but didn’t want
to challenge us. Hordes of insects went about their business. Several humans were
mating out of normal sight.

 

Constable Barhart pulled the carriage to a stop in front of a gate in a stone wall.
She looked over her shoulder.

 

“As you can see, there’s no way for you to get in,” said Barhart. “I think you can go
home with a clear conscience.”

 

“Wait here,” said Omes. He swung over the side of the carriage. He pulled his coat
around him as he walked over to the gate. I jumped down and followed at a safe
distance.

 

He pushed the call button for the house. He stood back and waited.

 

“What are you doing?,” I asked.

 

“Seeing if anybody is home,” said Omes.

 

“Why?,” I asked.

 

“Because knocking on the door is better than climbing the wall with the authority
sitting at our backs,” said Omes.

 

“What happens if no one comes to the gate?,” I asked.

 

“Then we head back into town and get some sleep,” said Omes. He smiled. “We still
have three more days before we have to head home.”

 

“Don’t freeze the police and break in,” I said.

 

“I would never,” said Omes. The rest of him said that had been what he was thinking.

 

“A log lies better than you,” I said.

 

Omes made a noise and pressed the button again. He watched the grounds intently.

 

“We might have to accost Miss Daniels in the street in the morning,” said Omes.

 

“We’re going into town and getting a room?,” I asked.

 

“Let’s do that,” said Omes. He took one last look through the bars of the gate. He
frowned at what he saw. “Let’s go.”

 

I followed him back to the carriage. He climbed in the back. I jumped up on the
bench. I leaned against the big hairpile and closed my eyes.

 

I already knew Omes was planning something. I could feel it. His brain had cycled
down like it always did when he was thinking about doing something risky. I had
a feeling that as soon as he could get clear of me, and the local representatives
of Metropole, he would be back at that gate and breaking into the place.

 

I could put him to sleep. That would take care of the next eight hours. He wouldn’t
like it, but it was better than attacking a place in the middle of the night when you
didn’t know what you were getting into.

 

I had done enough of that when I was in the Army.

 

Barhart rolled into town, pulling up in front of the only hotel I could see. I jumped
down and looked around. Living creatures, human and otherwise, had left their traces
along the way, but nothing was close.

 

“Thanks for the ride, Constable Barhart,” said Omes. He dropped down to the street.
“We plan to move out in the morning and find out what we need.”

 

“We’ll be here to pick you up,” said Barhart. “You don’t make a move without us.”

 

“Wouldn’t think of it,” said Omes. He waved as he walked into the hotel.

 

I slipped through the door after him. No hands meant I couldn’t open the door on my
own. I trailed behind him to the counter.

 

“We need a room,” Omes told the counter man.

 

I jumped up on the counter. I recognized the counter man. He recognized me.

 

“It’s you,” said the counter man.

 

“Yes,” I said. “We need a room, please.”

 

“All right,” said the counter man. He handed over a key. “How long are you staying
this time?”

 

“Two days maybe,” said Omes. He took the key and put it in his pants pocket. “Thank
you.”

 

“No problem,” said the counter man. “Enjoy your stay.”

 

Omes led the way to the stairs. He headed up to the room. I kept on his trail. He
opened the door for me and we went into the room. He flung himself down on the
bed.

 

“What are you thinking?,” I said. I jumped in the window sill. I balled myself up to
nap.

 

“I think we need to get a look at Celeste Daniels,” said Omes. “That lies the key to
moving forward.”

 

“How do we do that?,” I asked.

 

“I don’t know yet,” said Omes. “When I do, I’ll need you to take a look at her. Maybe
this is something natural.”

 

“You know something I don’t,” I said.

 

He didn’t answer the accusation. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

 

I closed mine and tried to drift off. Cats are known for being able to sleep anywhere
at any time. On the other hand, we don’t need to sleep much in any given day.

 

Omes was gone when I woke up minutes later. I growled to myself. I should have
known he would try to get into the estate without me.

 

And I couldn’t open the door to get out of the room. I was trapped like a rat.

What were my options?

 

I looked around the room. I found the screen. There was only one thing to do. I had
to call for help. Who did I call?

 

I only knew three people in the countryside. And the dog. I doubted he had a screen
to answer my call. Stroud would be more trouble. Barhart would be home by now and

 

I didn’t have that number. That left the third person.

 

I pawed the screen and dialed the army base switchboard. I hoped she was home and
could help me.

 

“Hello, how can I direct your call?,” asked the operator.

 

“I need to talk to Dr. Karen,” I said. “It’s an emergency.”

 

The voice put me on hold. I waited patiently for someone to come back to the phone.

 

I had to get out of the hotel room and track Omes down. I doubted he had decided
to have an early morning snack.

 

“Hello, Witsend,” said Dr. Karen. “How can I help you?”

 

“I need you to come to my hotel room,” I said. “I think Omes is doing something
stupid.”

 

“I’ll be right there.”

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3

Dr. Karen arrived minutes later. She had to pick the lock on the door. She smiled
softly. It made her wrinkles shift around like the skin of a raisin.

 

“You’re getting slow in your old age, Fluffy Wuffy,” she said.

 

“We have to go,” I said. I jumped from the bed and scampered to the door. “Omes
could be anywhere by now.”

 

“I doubt that,” Karen held the door for me. “It’s obvious he went to the source of
whatever brought you here.”

 

“The Daniels’ house?,” I said. “Maybe.”

 

I cast about for his trace as we headed down to the lobby. I picked up pieces in the air.
He headed for the door. I followed the trail as fast as possible.

 

I paused on the sidewalk. I saw traces of something mixed in with Omes. Then
Omes’s trail vanished in the air. The other went to a public screen, then headed down
the road after the transport that had picked up Omes.

 

“Toby was here to keep watch on the hotel,” I said. “He’s following Omes.”

 

“Then all we have to do is follow Toby,” Dr. Karen said. “Luckily, my transport
should allow us to catch up with everyone.”

 

She gestured at a two wheel thing painted army green with the coat of arms on the
green tank in front of the seat over the back wheel. She climbed on like it was a short
horse and waved for me to jump up to sit in front of her.

 

“Just tell me which way to go,” Karen said. She pulled on goggles to protect her eyes.

She revved the engine before letting the iron horse run. I didn’t like the movement,
but I kept my place as we rolled after Toby.

 

I was surprised to see Omes’s trace reappear after we had gone some distance from
town. He headed down a narrow road from the traces of DNA he had left behind.
Toby had entered the space a few minutes later.

 

“They went to the right up ahead,” I shouted.

 

Dr. Karen rolled to a stop in front of the narrow road. The web-like traces hung in the
air and dripped on the ground. A strand of fur from the dog glittered in the grass off
one side of the road.

 

“This leads down into the Bend,” said Dr. Karen.

 

“It leads to Cecil Daniels’s copper mine,” I said. “I should have known Omes
wouldn’t wait until daylight to want to take a look at it.”

 

“Your ward is relentless, isn’t he?,” asked Karen with a smile.

 

“Worse than the suicidal chickens we dealt with during the war,” I said. “Thanks for
the lift. I have to go down and make sure he’s unhurt. Then I will hurt him for
sneaking out.”

 

“I think I’ll go down with you,” said Dr. Karen. “There’s something in the air.”

 

I rubbed an ear before heading down the road. Now that I knew where he was going,
I could move faster on foot.

 

Toby’s traces were more recent and I had to give him some praise. He had tracked
Omes’s vehicle all the way from town just as I had tracked him. He must have the
nose of an Olympian to do that.

 

Karen joined me after stowing away her bike. We walked along. There was no one
else on the road, and I didn’t get a trace of life anywhere nearby.

 

I expected something like deer, or maybe a fox. Why weren’t there any birds? They
should be nesting, but I didn’t note any.

 

Even the usual insects had cleared out.

 

It said something about a place when even the bugs took off and didn’t come back.

 

We found Toby hunched under a tree. His pile of fur covering was gray in the star
light with patches of darkness on his back. He turned his head to face us with his big
black nose leading the way.

 

“Cat,” he said.

 

“Dog,” I said back.

 

“Omes?,” I asked.

 

“He went inside from the scent,” Toby turned his attention back to the mine. “There’s
a demon nearby.”

 

“Are you sure?,” I asked.

 

“I smelled them enough during the war,” said the police dog. “One of them is floating
about down there.”

 

“Could a demon take memories?,” I asked Dr. Karen.

 

“As a payment perhaps,” she said. “There would be a mark like a curse line left
behind. Any practicing exorcist, or demonologist, would be able to see it.”

 

“I would be able to see it,” I said. Even though I worked as a general practitioner
now, my medical training focused on the removal of foreign objects from patients. I
had seen enough curse lines during the war despite not being able to deal with them.

 

“Yes,” said Dr. Karen. “How do you want to handle this, boys?”

 

“I have to go down and pull Omes out,” I said. “Toby and you can go back to your
bike. We’ll make a run for it in case we run into the demon. Then we come back here
with a squad of exorcists and clear the place out.”

 

“You won’t make it, cat,” said Toby.

 

I looked down at the mine. I didn’t see anything that looked like security. It was wide
open, and any demon worth its weight would see me crossing that expanse to get to
the mouth of the mine.

 

“Suggestions?,” I asked.

 

“I go down and look around.” Toby huffed to his feet. “You two go back a safe
distance and then if the demon shows up, we run.”

 

“Dr. Karen?,” I asked the empty air. I looked around. “Humans.”

 

Dr. Karen walked across the open space to the mine’s opening. Her white hair stood
out brightly, the long braid in the back swinging against her riding coat. She clumped
along, hands in her pants pockets.

 

At least she wasn’t whistling.

 

I hurried to catch up with her. Toby jogged beside me. I jumped up on his back and
sat down as he sped along. He caught up with her as she peered into the copper
mine’s opening.

 

“Gentlemen, I think you should wait out here while I take a look around.” She entered
the copper mine, using the wall to keep her balance.

 

Toby and I looked at each other. We crept in behind her.

 

“Someone is here,” Toby said in a whisper.

 

“I don’t see a trace of Omes,” I whispered back.

 

“Can’t smell him either,” said Toby.

 

“I think we’re dealing with the Daniels,” whispered Dr. Karen. “Look sharp, lads.
This is going to be dicey territory we’re about to enter.”

 

We advanced down to a fork in the cavern under the light of lamps strung up along
the way. Toby listened and then headed down the left hand fork. I rode along, noting
the presence of three people. None of them were Omes, and shouldn’t there be more
traces of people.

 

Where were the miners?

 

Whom had dug the mine out, and installed the rails on the walls and the lamps? I
didn’t like the answer that was flitting through my mind.

 

Toby carried me down the shaft until we reached a large round chamber carved out
of the rock. A glittering piece of metal was in the ground. I couldn’t make out what
it was from where we hid against the wall so we could watch what was going on.

 

An older man in a red-orange suit stood next to the metal, to my left instead of
straight on. Two females in less gaudily colored dresses stood next to him. The older
one had the younger by the arm.

 

It didn’t take a genius to know this was the Daniels family. The younger one had a
mix of the other two’s traces to confirm my guess.

 

What were they doing in the mine by themselves? What was the thing in the floor?

 

And where was Omes?

 

A soft growl rumbled from deep inside of Toby. I leaned down and pulled the fur out
of the way of his eyes. Fury lit them with blue fire.

 

“What’s the problem?,” I whispered.

 

“One of them has been dealing with a demon,” said Toby. “I can smell it.”

 

“Not the girl,” I said softly. “She has a curse mark on her. I doubt she would do that
to herself.”

 

The spot I saw was a dark circle in her brain. That would explain why she didn’t
remember her fiancé. Something had come along and ripped the memories out of her
head.

 

And from the damage, I doubted there was a way to put them back in there.

 

I wondered what I was going to tell Almeins about this?

 

Where was Omes?

 

Cedric Daniels said something in a sonorous voice. A puff of smoke became
something almost like a man in a mail tunic, but everything was out of proportion
and the color scheme was bloody and dark.

 

“Well met, Cedric,” said the demon. The voice was better put together than the body
in my opinion. “What would you have of me this fine night?”

 

“I’m going to need another fifty pounds of copper,” said Cedric. “I almost have the
summoning circle ready. If the fifty pounds is enough, I should have it ready to use
by the end of the week.”

 

“What will you give me in payment?,” said the demon.

 

“I’ve already given you my daughter’s happiness,” said Cedric. “What more do you
want?”

 

“I would like the rest of her,” said the demon. “You can have other daughters when
you’re the king of the world.”

 

“I don’t think so,” said Toby. He carried me out in plain view of the foursome with
a growl of loathing. “By the authority invested in me, you’re all under arrest until we
can sort this out.”

 

Daniels opened his mouth to say something. He fell over on his face. I noticed he
was frozen, and smiled slightly. Omes was here too.

 

“What are you waiting for?,” asked Mrs. Daniels. “Kill these interlopers if you want
my daughter as a servant.”

 

The demon stepped out of the summoning circle with a smile on its twisted face. Fire
blazed up in its eyes.

 

“See what you got us into,” I said.

 

Miss Daniels pulled on her mother and the old woman fell over. She ran toward us. Toby moved out of her way so she could run out of the mine.

 

I didn’t have time to deal with her, and it was best she was out of the way. If the
demon killed us, at least she had a head start.

 

It wouldn’t help her, but she was out of the way. That was the best I could think of
for her.

 

“Which of you wants to die first?,” the demon said. It looked us over with its burning
gaze.

 

“I think the game is over,” said Omes, stepping into sight from the other side of the
room. “You heard the officer. You’re under arrest. Come along quietly, or there will
be problems.”

 

“There are going to be problems,” said the demon, turning to face him. “I’m sure of
that.”

 

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4

I wondered what Omes thought he was doing. His gauntlet wouldn’t work on a
demon. Neither would my life sense that I used to cure patients. And neither one of
us could physically hurt a demon with tooth and claw.

 

Toby threw himself at the demon. I jumped off his back as he flew across the space.
He hit the demon in the back and bore him to the ground. Blue fire shot from his eyes
as he ripped at the otherworldly creature.

 

The thing shrugged him off. He landed on his feet, fur smoking some as he
reoriented to attack again.

 

“Have one of these!,” shouted Omes. He threw a white block at the demon. A clawed
hand snatched it out of the air. The block blew up, taking the hand with it.

 

Despite our dire circumstances, pride washed over me. He had prepared a block of
exploding salt to carry into battle. It wasn’t enough to stop the demon cold, but it was
enough to cause it pain. The roar it emitted shook the cavern around us.

 

Toby went for a leg this time. He yanked at the spindly limb, pulling on it to keep
the monster from kicking with the other leg. A spark of fire threw the dog back
against the wall.

 

“None of you will leave this shaft alive,” said the demon. It raised the stump on the
end of its right arm. A hand built itself out of the wrist. “I already have my orders.”

 

“You may kill us, but that will be the end of the deal with the Daniels,” said Omes.
“What are you going to do now that they are frozen in time? You’ll be stuck inside
your circle until someone else comes along with the right command words. You
won’t be able to do anything but sit here for eternity.”

 

“But you’ll still be dead,” said the demon. “That will make me happy for as long as
I am stuck here in this cold place. Eventually someone will come along that will help
me wake up the Daniels. Then our scheme will be back on track.”

 

“You don’t really think that, do you?,” asked Omes. “If you wait too long, as soon
as the petrification is taken off, your masters will turn to dust.”

 

“Then I’ll make a bargain with someone else,” said the demon. “You can’t talk your
way out of this.”

 

“You would think so,” said Dr. Karen. She approached from behind me. I wished she
had run. The demon would have to kill the three of us before it could track her down.

 

She might be able to call in Army exorcists to finish the job we started.

She held up a hand about chest high. A flat image stood on her palm. The demon
paused when he saw what she was holding.

 

“It’s you,” said the image. “I can’t believe it. How’s it going, Wart?”

 

“Duquesne?,” said the demon, Wart. “You have got to be kidding me. Why are you
still dogging me? Haven’t I paid enough for what I did?”

 

“Always dramatic, bro,” said Duquesne. “That’s what I like about you. You bring the
drama fast and thick. Why don’t you tell the Dukester what’s up.”

 

Omes and I were exchanging glances that mostly said how did we get into this
mess, and how did we get out of it?

 

Omes pointed at the frozen people on the ground. He gestured for me to help him.
I looked at him for a second and ran to where the Daniels was frozen in time.

 

He ran over from his hiding place, hand in his bag. He looked at the two supernatural
forces and Dr. Karen with a trace of concern.

 

I really wanted him to be a little more afraid of what was going on.

 

“I’ll tell you what’s up, Duquesne,” said Wart. “I’m going to kill these meddlers since
they’re on my turf, and if you get in my way, I will crush you flatter than a penny.”

 

“That’s a serious threat, Wart,” said the tiny image. “I don’t think you have the stones
to back it up.”

 

“We need to get these two out of here,” said Omes. “I have a plan.”

 

“Neither one of us can carry them,” I said. “We need Toby.”

 

I hurried across to where Toby lay. I did a quick scan. He was in shock with serious
burns across his body. We didn’t have time to stabilize him and get him to a hospital
so he could recover in comfort.

 

I was going to have to do some field work while the two forces threatened each other.

The first thing I did was cut off his pain receptors. The damage was still there, but
it didn’t hurt any more. Then I massaged his shock until it was gone. The next thing
I did was encourage the burns on his body to heal at an accelerated rate. The burned
flesh scabbed over and fell away. The normal pus and other fluids that would be
present did their job and his body stopped making them as new flesh grew over the
rotting and decaying old flesh. I tweaked his coat enough to let fur grow back where
it had been burned away but the last thing on my mind to worry about was some bald
patches.

 

“Cat?,” he said. He sounded weak.

 

“Dog,” I said. I poured some adrenaline in him to get him started. “We need you to
get off your lazy butt and help us.”

 

“All right,” said Toby. He stood on all fours and shook his body. “What do you
need?”

 

“Come along with me,” I said. I lead the way to where Omes stood guard over
the Daniels. The two supernatural forces were still trash talking each other. Neither
wanted to make the first move. That would leave them open to a counter move.

 

“Can you carry these two, Toby?,” asked Omes.

 

“Yes,” said Toby. He picked up Mr. Daniels by his neck.

 

Omes struggled but he managed to get Mrs. Daniels on Toby’s back. He held her
in place.

 

“Head over to that tunnel,” said Omes. “Don’t stop until we get out of sight of those
two.”

 

Toby carried the couple to the tunnel effortlessly. Omes had to hold Mrs. Daniels in
place the whole trip. We walked down to a bend in the tunnel and Toby dropped Mr.
Daniels.

 

Omes went to the bend in the tunnel so he could look back at the big chamber. He
shook his head.

 

“I don’t know if they are going to start fighting, but Dr. Karen has bought us some
time,” said Omes. “Witsend, I’m going to need you to mesmerize Mr. Daniels. Then
you are going to have to make him say a dismissal of the demon.”

 

“I understand,” I said. I instantly saw the plan. It was desperate, but it might work
as long as Wart didn’t realize I was pulling the strings.

 

“All right,” said Omes. “I’m going to unfreeze him on the count of three.”

 

He pointed his gauntlet at the frozen summoner. He counted down. When he
hit one, he unfroze the target.

 

“Go to sleep,” I said.

 

Daniels snored a little on the tunnel floor.

 

“Can you hear me, Mr. Daniels?,” I asked. His brain was in the upper edges, not
plunging into dream land.

 

“Yes,” said Mr. Daniels.

 

“The demon is not living up to its end of the bargain,” I said. “You need to dismiss
it. You need to say the words until it can hear you.”

 

He nodded.

 

“I want you to follow me, and say the dismissal words,” I said.

 

I led the way back down the tunnel to the huge chamber. Mrs. Daniels would be
safe unless the tunnel collapsed. Even then, she would lie unhurt under the rocks
until someone found her and unfroze her.

 

That might take months, maybe years. It wasn’t a concern of mine.

 

She sacrificed her child. She deserved whatever punishment I could arrange for her.

Wart and the Dukester had engaged in their battle as giants brushing against the
ceiling inside the huge space. Dr. Karen had retreated to the other tunnel’s mouth.
Stray energy flew through the air. I pushed Daniels out there. He muttered his mantra
as he walked to the fight.

 

Wart paused, fireball in hand. He looked at Daniels. The summoner told him to go
home. He growled in fury at the command.

 

“I still need my payment,” the demon said. “What are you going to give me?”

 

“Nothing,” said Daniels. “You are free to go home until I need you again. Please do
so.”

 

“I still need my payment,” said Wart. “What will you give me?”

 

“Take my wife,” Daniels said. “That should do until I need you again.”

 

Wart fled down the tunnel pass me and Omes. He returned with a frozen Mrs.
Daniels. He stepped into the copper circle on the ground. He vanished.

 

“I think I should get rid of that before I go,” said Duquesne. He ripped up the
summoning circle and folded it in a box the size of a house cat.

 

“What about Mrs. Daniels?,” Omes asked.

 

“She’s getting a dose of her own medicine, I dare say,” said the giant.

 

“Thank you for your help, Duquesne,” said Dr. Karen. She looked around at the
scene. “I’ll have to get someone from the Army to help us with the rest of things.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” said Duquesne. “I’ve been wanting to take Wart down a peg or two. This was the perfect excuse to do that.”

 

Duquesne shrank down until he was the original size that had stood in Dr. Karen’s
palm and hurled insults. He stood on the palm and vanished in a puff of light.

 

“It looks like we’re done except for one thing,” Omes said. “I have to find Celeste and
tell her what was going on.”

 

“Help them, Toby,” said Dr. Karen. “I need to find a screen and get officialdom
involved so we can wrap things up.”

 

I put Mr. Daniels in a deep sleep that wouldn’t break until I said so. Then we headed
for the exit of the mine.

 

How far could she have gone in the short amount of time we were engaged?
 

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5

We met in a conference room at the police station the next day. Inspector Stroud
demanded we be there. I wanted to skip but Constable Barhart wouldn’t leave until
I left my napping spot and boarded the carriage she had parked in front of the hotel.

I took a seat at the head of the conference table and settled in to nap until the meeting
was over.

 

A big black nose bumped me in my chair. I opened one eye. A head of patchy fur
rested on the edge of the seat.

 

“Cat,” said Toby.

 

“Dog,” I said back. “Go get your own seat. I claim this one already.”

 

“Thank you for saving my life,” said Toby. He licked me. I jumped on the top of the
table.

 

“Cut that out, or there’s going to be trouble,” I warned him.

 

Bernard Almeins walked into the room. He paused when he saw the wide Inspector
Stroud and the slimmer Constable Barhart. He sat in a chair indicated by Omes.

 

Celeste Daniels and Dr. Karen arrived next. My mentor wore a smile as she guided
the younger woman to a seat. Except for the curse mark, she looked in perfect health.

 

“Who wants to explain what happened last night?,” Stroud asked. I knew he was on
shaky ground legally. If Dr. Karen claimed jurisdiction, he might not get anything
except what Toby was allowed to tell him.

 

“May I?,” asked Omes. He stood at the other end of the table in his customary white
shirt and pants. His bowler was on the table. His coat was laid over the chair at that
end of the table.

 

He had left his gauntlet and emergency bag hidden under a floorboard in our room.

 

“Please proceed, Omes.” Stroud gestured for him to go ahead with one hand.

 

“Two weeks ago, Cedric Daniels discovered his copper strike emerging from the
Bend,” said Omes. “He created a summoning circle at the entrance where he wanted
the mine dug. He summoned Wart to dig out the mine and place the summoning circle
inside away from people who might see him working.”

 

“He paid for this with his daughter’s memories of her romance,” said Omes. “Mr.
Almeins, do you have the pictures and letters?”

 

“Yes,” said Almeins. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. He pulled out
a packet. He put that on the table. A loose picture on the top of the packet came to life
to show our client with Miss Daniels.

 

“What did Daniels hope to accomplish?,” asked Stroud.

 

Miss Daniels picked up the picture by the edges. A tear glittered at the corner of her
eye.

 

“I believe he was building a bigger circle to summon a more powerful demon at the
back of the mine,” said Omes. “The half finished circle I found was made of copper.
Probably the same copper that his first demon was mining for him.”

 

“He was going to give me to that demon,” said Miss Daniels. “I can’t believe it. I
watched him agree to terms for fifty pounds of copper.”

 

“Mr. Almeins didn’t know this,” Omes said. “He had been carrying on a courtship
with Miss Daniels. He had missed talking to her for two days, and when he finally
did talk to her, he was rebuffed. Miss Daniels said she didn’t remember him, and
we know this to be true because of the curse mark she bears at the moment.”

 

“I examined her at my office, and Dr. Witsend did a cursory scan at the mine before
things went into the pot,” said Dr. Karen. “Those memories aren’t coming back. Wart
took everything he could.”

 

Stroud frowned, and nodded. Summoners liked to use someone else’s blood and flesh
to get what they wanted.

 

“Mr. Almeins hired me to find out what had happened to Miss Daniels,” said Omes,
taking up the narrative again. “Dr. Witsend and I came up on the train that night,
instead of waiting. Constable Barhart and Toby gave us a ride to the Daniels’
residence. Seeing no one was there, we agreed to come back to town and check in to
the hotel.”

 

“So how did you four get into trouble at the mine and almost get killed?,” Stroud
asked. His mustache bristled as he regarded Omes.

 

“I took a nap and realized the copper mine was the key in my sleep,” said Omes. “I
woke up and left the room. I got a ride with one of the local farmers and he let me off
at the entrance road to the Daniels mine.”

 

“I followed him after reporting his leaving the hotel,” said Toby. He lay in a pile of
patchy fur by my former chair.

 

“I called Dr. Karen for assistance and we followed Toby,” I said. I rubbed my ear
with a paw.

 

“I used another entrance into the mine to get in without using the front opening,”
said Omes.

 

“We used the front entrance and ran into traces of the Daniels,” I said.

 

“And Mr. Daniels was bargaining with the demon Wart,” said Toby. “Something had
to be done at that point.”

 

“And what have your heroics got us, Constable Toby?,” asked Stroud. He turned a
piercing glare on his canine copper.

 

“Oh, Billy Lee,” said Dr. Karen. She shook her head. “Constable Toby helped save
the country, if not the world. If Daniels had succeeded with building his larger
summoning circle, he might have been able to call up a leviathan. He might have used
the Bend to break the Upper Qiloth off from the rest of the country. Can you imagine
what would have happened to the civilians here if that had happened?”

 

“Mass hysteria,” I said. “Dogs and cats living together. Venomous snakes falling
from the sky. The usual.”

 

Toby coughed into his chest. It sounded like a laugh to me.

 

“So I should give Toby a medal?,” asked Stroud.

 

Dr. Karen looked around the conference room. Everyone but me nodded. I rubbed my
ear.

 

“I’ll think about it,” said Stroud. “So how do we clean up this mess?”

 

“The Army is pulling up the second summoning circle,” Dr. Karen reported. “Mrs.
Daniels is gone for the moment. She might be all right as long as she is frozen. Mr.
Daniels is facing a military tribune which I expect will find him guilty and hand down
an appropriate sentence.”

 

“And my life is ruined,” said Miss Daniels. “I’ll never get back what I had. I had
a future with someone I loved, but now I can’t even remember his name.”

 

Mr. Almeins looked down. His hands clenched together on the table top.

 

“You have a chance to fix that,” said Omes. “It will be up to you. Witsend says your
memory is perfect except for the area that was destroyed. You could make new
memories.”

 

She looked at him. Tears covered her cheeks. Almeins pulled out a handkerchief and
handed it over. She dabbed at her face with it.

 

“And even if you and Mr. Almeins can’t work this out,” said Omes. “You’re alive to
try. What would have happened if Wart had taken you would have been worse than
a loss of memories.”

 

“It’s a second chance, dear,” said Dr. Karen. “It could be anyway.”

 

“Would you like to go out with me?,” asked Mr. Almeins. “I’m sorry this happened
to your family, but I do love you, and I always will.”

 

“I need time to think about that,” said Miss Daniels.

 

“We’ll let you sort that out,” said Stroud. “Come along, folks. I want to know what
happens to Daniels, Karen.”

 

“I’ll send over a report, Billy Lee,” said Dr. Karen. “It’ll be full of pictures so you
can follow things.”

 

Billy Lee humphed into his mustache as they left. It looked like a porcupine.

 

“Good job, you two,” said Barhart. “And you didn’t break any major laws. Come on,
Toby. I’ll get you a hero steak.”

 

Toby stood and shook his patchy fur out. He was better now than last night when I
patched him on the fly. Dr. Karen probably smoothed things out for him with her
vaster experience.

 

He stood on his back legs, using his front legs to brace his heavy body. Sparkling
eyes peeked from the hanging bangs that covered his face. He gave me a dog’s grin.

 

“Thanks for saving my life,” Toby said. He pawed my head before dropping down to
the floor. “Cat.”

 

He followed Barhart from the room.

 

“Dog.” I reached up and smoothed my fur back down with a paw.

 

“I think you should read the letters, Miss Daniels,” said Omes. He pulled on his coat.
“That might give you more information to base your decisions on. Come along, Mr.
Almeins. There’s nothing more that we can do here.”

 

“I’m sorry about this, Cel,” said Almeins. He stood. “I’ll be waiting for you to call.”

 

Omes picked up his bowler and led our client out of the room with a hand on his arm.

 

Miss Daniels looked at me sitting on the table. I looked back at her, rubbing my ear
with my paw.

 

“Should I try again with Mr. Almeins?,” she asked after a minute of staring at each
other.

 

“What do you want to do?,” I asked back.

 

“I don’t know,” Miss Daniels declared. “My world has turned upside down, and I
don’t know how to right it.”

 

“Why don’t you open the packet and see what it has,” I suggested with a tail twitch.
“That might be a good first step.”

 

“Why?,” she asked. She looked down at the picture in her hands.

 

“Because it is better than returning to the family residence and being alone except for
servants that you can’t trust now because you don’t how many knew what your father
was doing,” I said. “And I said so.”

 

“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” said Miss Daniels.

 

“It comes with the territory,” I said. “I’m right here. Whatever is in those letters
and pictures can’t be any worse than what you have already faced. I’ll stand by
so you have someone to lean on. I promise.”

 

“Thank you,” said Miss Daniels. She opened the leather folder and pulled everything
out on the table. She slowly went through the pictures, lighting them up with her
touch. Smiles and tears alternated as she placed each picture on a pile after looking
at them.

 

She went through the letters next. The smiles came faster here. She folded the papers
and put them back in their envelopes when she was done.

 

“I was so happy,” she said.

 

“What do you want to do?,” I asked.

 

“I think I want to talk to Mr. Almeins and try at least one engagement,” she said.
“Maybe we could start again.”

 

“It will be a little more work,” I said. “You’ll have to be ready for that.”

 

“What would you do?,” Miss Daniels asked. “If someone took your memory of your
friend, would you try to be his friend again?”

 

“Yes,” I said.

 

“I think I am ready to try.” Miss Daniels stood. She put the letters and pictures in their
holder. “Shall we?”

 

I hopped off the table and walked to the door. I waited for her to catch up so she
could open the door for me to let me out.

 

She smiled as we went in search for her lost love.
 

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The White Stallion

1

I arrived home to Twenty Two Bee as Addison spun the house into reality one board
at a time. It was done so fast that it looked like the house slid into place. The door
opened and Omes stepped out on the porch. He smiled when he saw me.

 

“I have a case out of town,” said Omes. “I’m going down to catch a windjammer to
horse country right now.”

 

“Now?,” I asked. “I need you to open the refrigerator so I can get dinner.”

 

“You’re going to have to call out for something,” said Omes. “Someone stole a pooka
and I have been asked to get it back.”

 

“Someone stole a pooka?,” I said. “Someone stole a ghost horse?”

 

“Yep, and I have a week to get it back,” said Omes. He straightened his bowler on his
head. “I’m going down to look the ground over so I can get it done before the
deadline.”

 

“Let’s go,” I said. “I can eat on the windjammer.”

 

“Are you sure?,” asked Omes. “Don’t you still have work tomorrow?”

 

“Tomorrow is a lazy day,” I said. “Elga has some training to do, so I have a free day.”

 

“Let’s go,” Omes said. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, Addison.”

 

“Happy hunting,” said Addison. His voice boomed from his house. As soon as we
were clear, he spun it out of existence again.

 

“I didn’t think it was possible to steal a pooka,” I said.

 

Omes led the way to the edge of Time Village. I followed with an eye on the blinking
houses around us. One wrong step could lead to a house appearing on top, around,
inside of you. What was left over was a dog’s breakfast.

 

We reached the entrance to the Village and paused on the street. Omes waved at a cab
being pulled by a clanker. The mechanical horse stomped to a halt in front of us.

 

“How can I help you, master,” said the cab man. He leaned down from the bench of
the cab.

 

“We need to get to the windjammer terminal, please,” said Omes. He made sure to
check the company of the cab before climbing into the coach. Our faceless enemy
employed one service in particular in carrying out its plans.

 

I jumped in the cab. Omes pulled the door shut behind me and settled into his bench
to relax. I wondered if he knew where the pooka had been taken.

 

Keeping the solution a secret until he could grab some glory was something he would
do.

 

“What do you know about this?,” I asked. It was better to be direct, and not leave any
wiggle room. I could tell when he was lying by the way his brain lit up, but not if he
was omitting something.

 

Different parts did different things and some things were undecipherable even when
you could see the motion of the neurons as they went about their business.

 

“Just what I told you,” Omes said. “I was called about a missing pooka who is
supposed to run the race next week. I don’t have any details yet.”

 

“So you’re taking the next windjammer out to horse country to find out?,” I said.
“And you weren’t going to wait for me?”

 

“I didn’t think you would want to come along,” said Omes. “This will probably be a
boring case brought on by pranksters.”

 

“Pranksters?,” I rubbed an ear as the carriage carried us toward the edge of the
Industrial Quarter. “Do you really think that?”

 

“Who knows?” said Omes. “We’ll find out when we reach the scene of the crime.”

 

“Is that why you agreed to go by windjammer?,” I asked.

 

“The client is paying for it, so I couldn’t turn it down,” said Omes.

 

We both knew that wasn’t strictly true. If Omes didn’t like the client, or the mystery
wasn’t deep enough, he would turn down free passage to anywhere. There were
plenty of mysteries in the city that turning one down in the country wasn’t that much
of a problem.

 

The cab pulled into the lane provided for its kind that led to the massive glass doors
of the windjammer terminal. We descended to the walk. Omes paid the driver before
we went into the terminal.

 

A windjammer was moored to the top of the terminal. We wouldn’t have to wait to
board. We just needed to get our tickets so we could.

 

Omes went to the booth. He bought two tickets for a private berth so we could fly to
the horse country without worrying about sharing our space with someone we had to
get along with for the trip.

 

I approved since it prevented me from ripping someone’s arm off.

 

“Come along, Witsend,” said Omes. He waved at me to follow as he led the way to
the elevators leading to the boarding gate to the windjammer outside.

 

We rode up in silence. I turned over the question of the stolen ghost horse in my
mind. I couldn’t remember a case that sounded anything like that.

 

Why would you want a ghost horse in the first place?

 

We got off the elevator and headed for the gate. A woman in a uniform of blouse,
vest, and skirt stood beside a screen beside the entrance of the gate. She took our
tickets with a professional smile on her face.

 

“Your seats are at the top of the aircraft,” said the ticket lady. “Just board and climb
until you are on deck two. If you mess up, the crew will guide you where you need
to go.”

 

“Thanks,” said Omes. He led the way through the gate, down the boarding ramp, and
into the deck at the other end. Two crewmen were there to point out which way we
should go to get to our berths.

 

The windjammer was built on a jelly fish design. Decks were arranged from the top
of the body to where the ‘tendrils’ extended behind the body. Our berth was in a wall
so we could look out windows while we were flying. It was close enough to the front
that we could see where we were going if we wanted.

 

The bridge was somewhere above and in front of us. Engineering was behind us and
below for easy access to the tendrils. The rest of the ship was devoted to berths,
public seating, galleys, and wash rooms.

 

“We should be leaving in a few minutes,” Omes said. He stowed his bag in the drawer
under his bed. He sat down on the bed. “We’ll be able to get something to eat when
we land.”

 

I perched in the window sill. I looked out at the city spread out under us. The
Industrial Quarter threw clouds over its towers, obscuring the top of its walls. East
Canaan was on the other side of the jelly fish. The windjammer blocked the colorful 
houses and boats on the clean branch of the river from view. The Annex lay to the
north at the edge of the Quarter. A lot of the screen businesses and medical offices
were there and surrounding the hospital where I worked on patients I couldn’t deal
with at my office.

 

Horse country was on the other side of the Quarter and a distance out of the city. It
was where most of the horses in the country were raised and trained. If someone
wanted a kelpie to pull a riversled, the horse country was the place to go to get one.

 

“So what happens if we can’t find the horse?,” I asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Omes said. “I plan to find it and return it in time for the race. If I
can’t do that, the horse’s owner stands to lose some money from the event. I don’t
know how much.”

 

Omes was a great tracker of things. His talent would be well used on this. My ability
to sense and manipulate organic chemistry wouldn’t be much use. Pookas didn’t leave
anything that I could track with my sense.

 

Omes usually made his own arrangements to get anywhere. The client must be
desperate to have my friend start if he wanted us on the first aircraft leaving the city.

 

The windjammer’s tendrils spread to catch the air. I could see them snaking out in the
air from my window since they reached beyond the eclipsing body of the thing. I
looked around, but couldn’t see any life through the walls of our cabin.

 

“This is the captain speaking,” said the speaker in a corner near the roof of the cabin.
“We’re getting ready to severe our mooring. There will be some minor turbulence as
we use the thunderstorm from behind us to carry us to our destination.”

 

The windjammer shook. I kept my balance in the window sill and resettled. The city
moved as we watched from our platform.

 

Omes settled into his berth. His brain settled and I knew he was sleeping to conserve
his energy. I did the same. The sky was clear in my window. The stars and other
things moved in the night.

 

If something attacked the windjammer, there was nothing we could do about it. If
we survived the crash, I could help with any survivors.

 

The sun came up and woke me. I looked around. Omes still slept in his bed. Green
covered the ground below. Lakes poked holes in the landscape.

 

My stomach said feed me. I told it to wait. We would break our fast on the ground.

 

The terminal approached, but passed out of view because the bulk of the jelly fish
was in the way. We should be mooring up in a few minutes.

 

I woke Omes up. He didn’t like it, but in a minute he was moving around and getting
ready to disembark.

 

“Let’s see what this case brings us,” he said after washing his face.

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We used the elevator to get from the mooring gate to the ground floor of the terminal.
Omes directed us to a small restaurant opening up for business. My stomach agreed
with his assessment.

 

We ordered food as soon as we were allowed in. I realized the waitress knew us from
other business we had conducted in the horse country.

 

I checked my memory. The last case in the region we had was Conley Schwa and the
murder of his father, and grandfather. That had turned into a disaster that had led to
a gigantic hellhound rampaging in East Canaan.

 

Some vets and I fed the animal bags of salt to kill it and save that part of the city.

We chitchatted with the waitress as we wolfed down our food. The local gossip had
already keyed in to one of the pookas being missing, as well as the trainer. Omes
asked about the man, but the waitress only knew his reputation as a hard worker for
Major Fibbley.

 

We finished our breakfast. Omes tipped well for the conversation. Now he had some
idea of why he was called other than for getting the pooka back. Major Fibbley must
not have been able to find the missing trainer.

 

“What do you think, Witsend?,” Omes asked as we left the little diner.

 

“The trainer took the pooka,” I said back. “It seems obvious.”

 

“Then why call me?,” Omes asked. “A simple bulletin from Metropole should cover
the country. And pookas aren’t useful for much. This almost seems like an attempt
to fix the race.”

 

“Aren’t there easier ways of doing that?,” I said.

 

“I have no idea,” said Omes. “It looks like we have a police escort coming.”

 

Two blue coats worked their way through the crowd around the terminal. They
seemed to be looking for someone. I sat and rubbed an ear as I watched them. Their
blood pressure was way too high, and one needed to lose some weight along with the
droop in his eye.

 

Omes slipped his gauntlet on as he watched them. If there was any kind of trouble,
he would leave them frozen in the street.

 

“Omes?,” called one of the blue coats. He scanned the crowd for someone to look
his way.

 

“I’m Omes,” said Omes. He adjusted his bowler. “How can I help you?”

 

“The Inspector asked us to escort you to Major Fibbley’s estate,” said the constable.
His eyes were clear and he seemed to be fine. His blood pressure dropped when he
was sure he had the right person to escort.

 

“I will be glad to go,” Omes said. “Carriage?”

 

“Yes, sir,” said the constable. “I’m Bill Withers. This is Marlin Pike.”

 

“This is my associate, Dr. Witsend,” said Omes. He gestured at my sitting form.

 

“I can fix that eye for you, Pike,” I said. “I’d need some things, and a nurse, but the
lid wouldn’t cut off your vision after I was done.”

 

I made the offer because he was staring at me. The combination of his mismatched
eyes bothered me. A few minutes with a knife could even things out.

 

“That’s all right, Doctor,” said Pike. “I’m waiting for my retirement money.”

 

“I have an office in Eribia,” I said. “Whenever you need it fixed, call and I will set
up a day for you.”

 

“I take it the Inspector is out at the Major’s estate,” said Omes. He seemed amused
that I was offering a service when I usually saw my patients in spats of days so I
could take as much time as I wanted off.

 

“Yes,” said Withers. “The carriage is around the corner. We didn’t actually know
when you were coming in, but we decided to check the first flight in just in case.”

 

“Let’s go,” said Omes. “The rain will be coming, and I want to look at the scene
before it arrives.”

 

“This way,” Withers said. He turned and started down the street to a Metro carriage
pulled by two black with white spots unicorns. The animals glared at Omes and me
as we approached. “Don’t touch them. They’ll bite your hand off.”

 

“Thanks for the warning,” said Omes. He climbed into the back of the carriage.

 

I hopped up beside him. He shut the door with a pull of his hand.

 

Withers and Pike climbed up on the bench behind the animals. The left one tried to
turn to bite the bigger constable but he avoided the sharp looking teeth with a twist
of his body.

 

Withers picked up the reins and released the brake. He whipped the reins to get the
unicorns moving in the direction he wanted.

 

“Has anything new been found?,” Omes asked.

 

“No,” said Withers. “Bulletins have been screened across the country. No one has
come forward to report the pooka, or James Frank, the trainer. They vanished off the
Earth from the looks of things.”

 

“Do you know Frank?,” asked Omes.

 

“Not really,” said Withers. “We haven’t had to go out to the Major’s estate for
anything, and he seems to have avoided trouble in town.”

 

“He used to be a good jockey,” said Pike. “He won a ton of races for a few of the
stables around. Fibbley made him a trainer after his last championship run. The word
around the track was that horses loved him. He had a knack, and they ran harder when
he was in the saddle.”

 

“So if he did take the pooka, the pooka would have gone willingly with him?,”
Omes asked.

 

“I think so,” said Pike. “He’s been with Fibbley since the stable started winning races.
I find it hard to believe that he took it in his head to do something when he was in line
for the purse next week.”

 

“I don’t understand,” said Omes. He looked at me. I rubbed my ear. I knew less than
him about horse racing.

 

“As the trainer, if his horse won, he would have been awarded a quarter of the purse.
The jockey would have gotten a quarter. And the owner would have gotten half,” said
Pike. “That’s not counting if they had any bets on the horse to win and those paid
off.”

 

“If he bet on the horse to lose?,” asked Omes.

 

“If he won a bet like that, the gaming commission would want to know about it,”
said Withers.

 

“Fixing a race would cost Frank ten years in prison, a fine of thirty thousand silver,
and a goat,” said Pike. “I don’t know why a goat is part of the punishment, and it is
mostly waived these days.”

 

“So if he were caught fixing the race to win a bet, his life would be over,” said Omes.

 

“Essentially,” said Withers. “There’s not many jobs that allow for that big of a fine.
He would be working for the authorities, whichever board pressed him, for a long
time and never see any of what he was earning.”

 

Omes settled back in his chair. I could see his brain spinning around until he willed
it to be silent. You could mark the change as he put his thoughts in an inner box to
be looked at later and watched the countryside going by.

 

“Can you really fix my eye?,” Pike asked.

 

“It’s a common thing,” I said. “A five minute operation would push the lid out of the
way. Naturally I couldn’t do it here without the right equipment, but I don’t see why
it couldn’t be fixed. You could stand to lose some weight also. It’s affecting your
blood pressure.”

 

“I told you,” said Withers. “You need to lay off the pastries.”

 

“I love them,” said Pike.

 

“They love you too,” I said. “They love you so much they’re jamming up your
arteries and trying to stop the blood from reaching your brain. They’re giving you a
death hug.”

 

“A death hug?,” asked Withers.

 

“I’ll demonstrate,” I said. I reached in and ran Pike’s blood pressure up for a few
seconds. He felt the danger signals after things started going back to normal. “The
feeling you just felt was what it would feel like if you had to chase someone for
longer than a minute. Lay off the pastries.”

 

“You have to be the meanest doctor I have ever met,” said Pike. He wiped his
forehead with the back of his hand.

 

Withers smiled and looked the other way.

 

“I’m a doctor, not a hand holder,” I said. “You come to my office next week, and I
will fix your eye and put you on a program to lose that gut.”

 

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” said Withers.

 

“Nobody asked you,” said Pike. “Just drive the carriage.”

 

The unicorns made some sounds. I assume they were talking to each other about
their passengers. One of them tossed his head almost like he was laughing at the
other’s sounds.

 

We rode the rest of the way to the estate in silence. We passed the marker for Conley
Schwa’s estate. I hoped he was doing well. It was hard going when a half brother
you didn’t know you had tried to feed you to a beast from the netherworld.

 

Major Fibbley’s stable was marked with an arched gate that said WHITE HORSE
in metal stanchions on the top. The road led up to a large stable, a corral of wooden
boards, and a barn. A manor of plain stone sat a few hundred yards away from the
primary buildings.

 

A dozen white horses roamed in the corral. Their manes seemed to be made of white
fire, and a set of chains hung around their bodies, dragging along the ground. They
glared at us as they walked inside the circle marked out for them.

 

Omes opened the carriage door for us and dropped down to the ground. I hopped out
after him. The horses, pookas, paused to look at him.

 

I didn’t like that. Pookas were not known for their kinder nature.

 

Two men approached from the house. One wore a blue coat and I concluded that the
other man in tweeds was the good major. Neither man looked happy.

 

I found that I didn’t care how they felt.

 

“Murdock Omes?,” said the man in tweeds.

 

“That’s right,” said Omes.

 

“I was expecting someone older,” said the Major.

 

“Everyone does,” said Omes. He smiled slightly.

 

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“I need you to get my pooka back,” said Fibbley. “Ash Eater is the fastest of my herd.
Everyone knows him. He can outrun anything.”

 

“What about the trainer?,” asked Omes.

 

“What about him?,” said Fibbley. “I don’t care about him as long as I can get my
racer back.”

 

“We would like to talk to him, Master Omes,” said the Inspector.

 

“Inspector?,” said Omes.

 

“Luther Lynley,” said the blue coat. “What do you need from us?”

 

“I just need to look around,” said Omes. “Eventually I’ll cut a trail and then I’ll see
how far that takes me.”

 

“So you will get my racer back?,” said Fibbley.

 

“I can’t promise that,” said Omes. “I’m just going to look around. When I’m done, I’ll
have a better idea of what happened. The pooka might already be out of the country
by now.”

 

“That’s unacceptable,” said Fibbley. “I demand results.”

 

“Excuse me,” said Omes. He said it in a way that said he was getting ready to walk
away from this problem.

 

An overnight flight here and an overnight flight home was the cost of doing business.
He would write the time off if he didn’t feel the urge to find out what had happened
to Frank.

 

“You will find my racer or I will ruin you,” said Fibbley. He loomed over Omes.

 

“Face on fire,” I said. I reached in and activated all the nerves in his face with that
command. He went down screaming in pain. “Mute.” He tried to scream but nothing
came out. “Stop burning.”

 

The blue coats looked at me like I was a monster. I admit that the Army had used up
a lot of my consideration for anyone who thought they gave orders. And no one
threatened my boy.

 

I would rip their arms off first.

 

“We aren’t your servants,” I said. “The next time you think you’re giving orders, you
remember I was in the Sky Wolves. And you remember what our war cry was because
I can make it happen.”

 

“Withers,” said the Inspector. “Take the Major up to the house. We’ll call him when
we need him.”

 

I turned the major’s voice back on as he was led away. The whimpering went with
him as I twitched my tail and rubbed my ear.

 

“Meanest doctor ever,” whispered Pike.

 

“Don’t you forget it either,” I said. “You better be in my office next week, or I’ll
come back and give you something to regret.”

 

The Inspector made a coughing noise. He looked at me. I looked back.

 

“Was that necessary?,” Lynley asked.

 

“You threaten my ward, I’ll rip your arm off,” I said. “Everything else is negotiable.”

 

“What is the war cry of the Sky Wolves?,” Pike asked.

 

“Up yours,” I answered.

 

“I can see that,” said Pike.

 

Omes adjusted his bowler. He looked at the pookas in the corral. He looked at the
stable. He frowned as he inspected the building. He turned and started walking away
from the building.

 

I followed behind him. He paused every few minutes to look around. Pookas didn’t
give me anything to grab. At least his talent was working.

 

He stopped in a clear patch of ground an hour away from the stable. He looked
around. He stooped to study the ground. He shook his head.

 

“What’s wrong?,” asked Lynley. I had forgotten his presence. He looked over the
area, but he didn’t see what Omes did.

 

“One of us is going to have to tell Fibbley that his racer is gone for good,” said Omes.
“And there’s blood here in the grass.”

 

I walked over and looked at the spot he indicated. It was blood, but it was faded and
dead. It had been out in the open for a while.

 

“Looks like it’s at least two days old,” I said. “I can’t see anything living left.”

 

“Frank?,” asked Lynley.

 

“That would be my guess, unless he killed someone with the pooka,” said Omes.
“You might want to get some help, Inspector.”

 

Lynley nodded. He turned and headed back to the house.

 

“So the pooka is dead?,” I asked. “How do you kill a ghost horse?”

 

“I don’t know,” Omes said. “Major Fibbley isn’t going to like the news, but I don’t
see how that’s my problem.”

 

“So where’s Frank?,” I asked. I knew Omes knew where Frank had gone. He just
didn’t want to say.

 

“Over in that direction for a few more yards,” said Omes. He pointed at the distance.
“When Lynley gets back, you’ll see.”

 

“Are we giving up?,” I asked.

 

“No,” said Omes. “We know what happened to Ash Eater and Frank. When Lynley
comes back with help, it will be up to him if he wants to try to track the rest of this
down. For my part, I think we have satisfied the Major and can put in for our pay.”

 

“He’s going to want evidence that Ash Eater is really gone,” I said. “He’s not going
to take your word for it.”

 

“I don’t have any to give him other than my observations,” said Omes. “I can safely
say that Ash Eater burned away at this spot.”

 

I rubbed my ear as I considered. Omes was never wrong in this type of tracking. If he
said the Pooka was gone, then it was gone.

 

Fibbley would not like to hear that. That meant his chances for the race was over
before it got started. And it narrowed the suspects to everyone who wanted Ash Eater
to lose in the upcoming race.

 

How many people could that be? How did we find out?

 

Maybe Lynley had some clue we could use to crack this thing wide open.

 

We waited in silence for the Inspector to return. Clouds carrying rain rushed to the
south of us. I watched a spark of lightning dance through the sky.

 

It was prime windjammer weather.

 

The unicorns pulled the police carriage up where we waited. A fourth policeman
accompanied the three we already knew. The Major rode with them. He stayed on
the other side of the carriage from where I stood.

 

It was still within my range if I wanted to grab his nervous system again.

 

“Where is my pooka?,” asked the Major.

 

“Gone,” said Omes. “You’re not seeing it again.”

 

“Frank?,” asked the Inspector.

 

“Over there,” said Omes. He walked over to where he had pointed. He paused and
gestured at the ground. “Right here.”

 

The Inspector nodded to his minions. They climbed down from the carriage and
pulled folding shovels from a locker under the bench. They started on the turf. Within
seconds, they had found a hand.

 

Lynley hunkered down. He cleared some of the grassy chunks away with his hands.
Jesse Frank looked up from his grave.

 

“We’re going to have to roll the body up and take it with us,” said Lynley. He felt the
chest of the corpse. “It looks like he was stabbed.”

 

“Who stabbed him?,” said Fibbley. “What happened to Ash Eater?”

 

“It’s obvious what happened to your pooka, sir,” said the fourth blue coat. “It was
linked to Frank, and when he died, that severed the link.”

 

“That’s not possible,” said Fibbley.

 

“It’s the only explanation,” said the blue coat. “Pookas follow family lines until the
lines die out. Frank might not have known about this. Maybe the pooka came after
him to warn him. Either way, when he was stabbed, that broke the connection and the
pooka went back to where they come from in the first place.”

 

“What he’s saying,” said Withers. “We have a murder and a killing done by one
man.”

 

“And we have to find that man,” said the Inspector.

 

Omes adjusted his bowler. He started off across the grass. I followed him, glad he
wasn’t running.

 

Cats weren’t built for an extended jog in the middle of nowhere with no reason to do
it.

 

“So we’re following the second man,” I asked after a few minutes of walking and
silence.

 

“Just walking,” said Omes. “The Inspector and his men will be able to handle the
rest of this business. I expect a suspect will present himself before long.”

 

“You don’t think that,” I said. “You want to find the man yourself.”

 

“I’ll be able to search faster on my own,” said Omes. “And they will have to go
back to town to turn in the body.”

 

“What do you think is behind this?,” I asked.

 

“I think a theft to fix the race,” said Omes. “I expect the thief didn’t realize that
killing Frank would kill the horse. The Inspector probably has a handful of suspects
to investigate on the subject.”

 

“So we’re narrowing those suspects down,” I said. I twitched my tail as we walked.
“What do you plan to do when we locate the killer.”

 

“Nothing,” said Omes. “I doubt I can do more than say this is the man. We don’t have
any proof that he committed a crime until Frank’s body and clothes are gone over for
evidence.”

 

That was not like Omes at all. His natural tendency was to go full bore at something
unless an easier path presented itself.

 

His brain said he had put it rest while he scanned the land in front of us with his eyes.

I wonder if he would try some kind of bluff based on the knowledge he had gained
on chasing Frank across the meadow. That was in line with his usual practice.

 

If he did that, I would have to act as the muscle.

 

That was how most of our cases ended whether I could actually hurt the villain, or
not.

 

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We tramped until we found a road. I took a look around. I felt Fibbley’s house had
rolled behind us and to the left. We were turning more right. I thought we were
approaching the back end of Conley Schwa’s estate.

 

The road seemed to go toward town from the feel of it.

 

I spotted a herd of kelpies in the distance. They were playing in a lake, diving and
swimming with abandon.

 

If they noticed us, they made no sign.

 

“I think we should go this way for a bit,” said Omes. “If we find our man, we can turn
the rest over to Inspector Lynley.”

 

We walked until we came to a farm. Omes inspected the gate before walking down
the trail toward the house. Livestock flourished everywhere from what I could see.

I noted the presence of fiery cows in a field a few hundred yards away. A wire fence
marked for electricity formed a barrier to keep them in their home field.

 

I doubted the fence would do much if they stampeded.

 

Omes looked the yard over before walking to the farm house in the middle of things.
He knocked on the door and waited for a response.

 

“Someone is inside,” I said. I could see the blur of life moving around. “Knock
harder.”

 

Omes knocked with his gauntlet. The metal knuckles thumped against the wooden
panel. He stepped back to wait for the door to open.

 

The blur became a woman on the other side of the door. She opened it and frowned
at us. She looked around for someone else to be in the yard. She looked down at us.

 

“What do you want?,” she asked.

 

She wore blue work pants and a man’s plaid shirt. Her graying hair had been tied up
by a bandana. The frown seemed her natural expression from the way her mouth
moved.

 

“Hello,” said Omes. “I’m Murdock Omes. This is my associate, Dr. Witsend. We’re
looking for Major Fibbley’s pooka. I was wondering if we could ask you some
questions.”

 

“I’ve already talked to the blues,” said the woman. “Go talk to them.”

 

“We have,” said Omes. “They said their prime suspect is a man living on this farm.
Since they discovered Jesse Frank’s body, they will be arriving soon to arrest the
man. I just want to know why he killed Jesse Frank.”

 

“What are you talking about?,” said the woman. Her frown deepened and told me that
she knew what we were talking about and didn’t like it.

 

“Jesse Frank’s body has turned up,” said Omes. “The police took it in to get it
examined by a doctor. When they are done, they will be here to take you and your
husband away for murder.”

 

“I’m not married,” said the woman.

 

“Who’s the man staying here?,” asked Omes. “I know that he’s here. I followed his
trail all the way from the body.”

 

The woman looked over her shoulder. I rubbed an ear. Maybe she wasn’t married, but
someone else was there.

 

“Go to sleep,” I told her. Then her brain fell out of active use and she collapsed to the
floor.

 

“Hello,” said Omes. “We know you’re in there. Why don’t you save us some trouble
and come out.”

 

A man wearing a suit stepped into view. He glanced at the woman sleeping on the
floor. I noted that the flower in his lapel needed to be replaced.

 

“Who are you?,” he asked. “What have you done to Estelle?”

 

“I’m a detective searching for the man who killed the trainer from the horse ranch
down the way,” said Omes. “This is my associate and a good doctor. You’re the
murderer. Now we all know who we are. What do you want to do about it?”

 

“Killing you won’t be much of a challenge after killing Frank,” said the man. “I
don’t know how you tracked me down, but that was the last move you’ll ever make.”

 

“Face on fire,” I said back.

 

He staggered back. His hands clutched at his face. I suppose putting him to sleep
would have been more merciful, but I was all out of that.

 

Omes raised his gauntlet and froze the man in mid-shriek. He pushed the statue over
as he considered what to do.

 

“Well, that admission of guilt would be great, but I can’t testify.” Omes rubbed his
face with his hand.

 

“I can testify, but what would I be testifying to?,” I said. “If you can’t go to court,
claiming he threatened you won’t mean much.”

 

“Good point,” said Omes. “Let’s look around. Maybe we can find something useful
to hang them.”

 

We started our search in the front of the house. After a few minutes, it became
apparent that the woman and man were related and he was from the city. His baggage
contained two suits and a flier for the upcoming race.

 

Omes searched him and found a knife hidden in the seams of his coat. He shook his
head as he took the weapon and put it out of reach.

 

Omes rubbed his chin as he thought.

 

“We know he did it, but there’s nothing here to take to court,” he said. “Maybe we
could match the knife to the wound if we were careful. The Inspector would still have
to explain how he found it to a court.”

 

“He certainly won’t be able to say he found it while searching the suspect since we’ve
done that for him,” I said.

 

“Maybe we can get this man together with Lynley and see what happens,” Omes said.
“I don’t know how that would work.”

 

“Maybe we can use a screen and call his office,” I suggested. I walked to the screen
in the parlor of the house.

 

Omes opened the screen by typing in the security code. He waited for it to boot up.
He decided to check the contacts for the house before he called the Inspector. He
rubbed his chin as he looked at the numbers.

 

“Maybe we should let the Inspector check these numbers before we taint the
evidence,” said Omes. “This one is a head of a gambling gang back in the city.”

 

“So we should get him before we call him?,” I said. “These two will wait until we
come back since you froze one.”

 

“I know,” Omes said. “Let me freeze the other one. Then we can go back and see if
they are done with Frank’s body.”

 

“They probably already took him back to Fibbley’s estate,” I said.

 

“I wonder if we could use someone else’s screen,” Omes said. “We’re behind Conley
Schwa’s estate. Let’s talk to him.”

 

“Do you think he’ll be happy to see us?,” I asked.

 

“He’ll be happy as long as he isn’t in trouble,” Omes said back.

 

He pointed the gauntlet at the woman and froze her. We dragged the two statues out
of the way. Then we closed the door and stepped out into the yard.

 

“That woman is the first person around with no horses on the property,” said Omes.
“I wonder why.”

 

“Maybe she doesn’t like horses.” Just because everyone around you adored a certain
type of animal, you didn’t have to do that.

 

“You’re right,” Omes said. He walked out on the road. “Which way do you think
Conley’s place is?”

 

“It’s that way,” I said. I pointed with a paw. “We’ll have to cross some forests and
fields to get to his house.”

 

“The faster we get this done, the better I’ll like it,” said Omes. “As long as no one
shows up to pick up our mystery man, we should be all right.”

 

“We’ve lost if that happens, haven’t we?,” I asked.

 

“I wouldn’t say lost,” said Omes. “We would have to track him down again, and he
will be harder to follow if he leaves the horse country.”

 

I led the way through a wooden fence and down into a small forest of trees. We made
excellent time across Schwa’s property in my opinion. The manor house appeared
after about twenty minutes of walking.

 

We circled around to the front door. Omes knocked on the door with his gauntlet. We
waited patiently. The butler opened the door and looked astonished to see such a
raggedy pair at his threshold.

 

“How can I help you, gentleman?,” said the butler. There was a small trace of scorn
on his lips.

 

“Would you tell Mr. Schwa that Murdock Omes and Dr. Witsend would like to use
his screen for a moment to call Metropole?,” said Omes. “Tell him this is not about
a summoning, or any immediate danger to him, or you.”

 

“Is that a threat?” The butler glared down on us.

 

“Go to sleep,” I said. He fell over. I stepped over his body and walked inside the
house. “Schwa! It’s Dr. Witsend! We need to ask a favor!”

 

“That’s not a way to curry favor,” said Omes. He followed behind me, hat pushed
back on his brow.

 

“I considered giving him a stroke.” I looked around. Schwa was in his parlor. “The
next time he’ll know to jump instead of getting in the way.”

 

“Dr. Witsend?,” Conley Schwa’s thin form presented itself. “What are you doing
here?”

 

“Putting your butler to sleep,” said Omes.

 

“Still cranky?,” said Schwa. “It’s a pleasure to see both of you again. I assume this
is about a case.”

 

“We’re investigating Major Fibbley’s missing pooka, Conley,” Omes said. “We need
to call over to the Fibbley estate and talk to the local inspector.”

 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” said Schwa. “I recommended you to the Major.
He’s a gruff old man, but my father and he were on good terms until the day he died.”

 

“He’s a bit pushy,” I said. I rubbed an ear.

 

“Really?,” said Schwa. “I suppose he is.”

 

“We have most everything locked down, Conley,” Omes said. “I’m just trying to clear
up one loose end.”

 

“I moved the screen out of Father’s office,” said Schwa. “I bricked the door and wall
over and opened the room out to the elements.”

 

Schwa led us to his parlor. A screen had been set in the wall over the fireplace. He
reached up and dialed the Fibbley screen with a thin hand.

 

“Did you kill Harmon, Doctor?,” Schwa asked.

 

“He’s taking a nap.” I settled on the couch and pulled myself into a ball. “He’ll wake
up eventually.”

 

The screen lit up. The face was new, but it lit up when it saw Schwa in his parlor.

 

“Hello, Mr. Schwa,” said the woman. “How are you doing today?”

 

“Hello, Margaret,” said Schwa. “Is your father around, or a constable?”

 

“They just brought Jesse back,” Margaret Fibbley said. “Is that the detective from the
city?”

 

“Yes, ma’m,” said Omes. “Could you get one of the policemen for me? I have
something I need to tell them.”

 

“I’ll get one,” said Margaret. “Excuse me.”

 

She went away from the screen.

 

“Takes after her mother, doesn’t she?,” Omes asked.

 

“Yes,” said Schwa. He smiled slightly.

 

Inspector Lynley appeared on the screen. He nodded to Schwa and Omes.

 

“What do you have, gentlemen?,” asked the Inspector.

 

“We tracked your murderer down to a property behind Mr. Schwa’s estate,” said
Omes. “We took him and the woman he was boarding with but it is up to you to
fabricate a reason to do a search. It seems like he is connected to one of the big rings
from the city.”

 

“I can say we are acting on a tip,” said Lynley. “Why can’t I say you found the man?”

 

“I can’t testify in court,” said Omes. “Witsend can, but he would have to prove he
could track your murderer in the rain after two days. I don’t think he can.”

 

“I understand,” said Lynley. “I will send a squad around to look at things.”

 

Omes gave him the address of the farm, and directions from the murder scene.

 

“I left them frozen in place,” said Omes. “It took us a while to cross through Mr.
Schwa’s property to call you. If someone was coming to pick him up, he might
already be there moving their bodies.”

 

“I’ll tell the boys to hurry,” said Lynley.

 

“We’re going back to meet them,” said Omes. “Thanks for the help, Inspector.”

 

He reached up and pushed the call cut button.

 

“Thanks for you help, Conley,” said Omes. “We have to go if we want to beat the
Metro people over to that farm.”

 

“Take care of yourselves,” said Schwa. “Come back and tell me what this was all
about when it’s over.”

 

“We will,” said Omes. He walked to the front door. I followed with a jump from the
couch.

 

“Please wake up Harmon, Doctor,” said Schwa. “I use him to read my mail.”

 

“Yes,” I said.

 

We walked out of the mansion. I told the butler to wake up as we passed. He snorted
and tried to sit up. Omes waved at him as we circled the mansion and headed back to
where we had left our captives.

 

Omes glanced at the space where Schwa’s father’s office used to be as we passed. He
nodded to himself. Finding the killer drowned in the polluted waters of the Tam had
extinguished any fear that he would keep trying to kill Conley with his letters.

That had been a job well done in my opinion.

 

We retraced our steps back through the woods to the other farm. Once Lynley had his
murderer in hand, the job would be over.

 

We reached the farm after the Metropole. They had our murderer and the owner
leaning against the wall in their frozen state. The door was open and Pike was on
guard outside of it.

 

“Could you unlock them please?,” he asked. “The Inspector wants to ask them some
questions.”

 

Omes smiled.

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5

Estelle and the Mad Stabber had a seat in the dining room of the house. They were
manacled together and to the table. I suppose someone wasn’t taking a chance they
would get up and run away with four blue coats at the doors, the Inspector and Omes
sitting at the table with them and me sitting on a chair in the corner.

 

“Who wants to get started and tell me why you killed James Frank?,” Lynley asked.

 

“We don’t have to say anything to you, blue belly,” said the man. “Why don’t you
take us in and arrange for our bond?”

 

“I can turn you over to the cat again,” said Lynley. “I’m sure he would like to ask you
some questions.”

 

“You can’t let that fiend torture us,” said the man. “It’s not right.”

 

“Killing someone over a race isn’t right either,” said Lynley. “You’re going to hang
regardless. I would rather you tell me something so I don’t have to hang your cousin
too.”

 

“She doesn’t know about any of this,” said the man. “I wasn’t supposed to kill Frank.
He just got in my way at the last minute and I had to do something. I didn’t realize
he was the horse’s host line until after it faded away.”

 

“But it didn’t matter,” said Lynley. “Getting the pooka out of the way was the real
reason you were there. Killing Frank was just as good as putting the pooka
somewhere it wouldn’t be found.”

 

“Yes,” said the murderer. “But it was an accident. The plan was to take the horse
and hide it. I had a spot picked out in the estate across the road. Everyone has said
Conley Schwa is almost a recluse with almost nobody living on his land. I planned
to hide the pooka over there. When the race was over, all I would have to do was
release it to go back to its stable.”

 

“And if anybody reported the pooka, then it would be on Mister Schwa to prove
it had nothing to do with him,” said Lynley. “I commend you for some sound
reasoning. Was Mr. Frank helping you with your scheme before you killed him?”

 

“No,” said the killer. “I grabbed the horse and was leading him away. I had a cart
to attach the pooka to so I didn’t have to ride him, and I didn’t have to lead him. I had
a normal horse to go out there. I planned to tie the horse off to the cart and roll back
behind the pooka. Frank showed up out of the blue. He was screaming at me. I
stabbed him when he jumped me.”

 

“You stabbed him with this?,” asked Lynley. He held up the knife Omes had found
in the secret pocket.

 

“Yes,” said the killer. “Are we done here?,”

 

“One last question, Mr. Gill,” said Omes. “Who hired you to do this job?”

 

“No one,” said Gill. “No one hired me. I was doing the job to make some money
at the next race.”

 

Now that was the first lie he told. I watched him as I rubbed my ear. Someone more
threatening than the police had a grip on him. I could maybe get a name if I wanted
to, but it wouldn’t be admissible.

 

As soon as he came out of it, he could retract anything he said.

 

“We can protect you, Mr. Gill,” Lynley said. “No one would know you were still
alive after we’re done.”

 

“Take care of Estelle,” said Gill. “That’s all I can ask.”

 

Lynley frowned at the plea. Why was Estelle more important to him than his own
life?

 

“I will talk to the Crown Prosecutor,” said the Inspector. “We will work out a deal for
you and your cousin. That’s the best I can do.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” said Gill.

 

“Take these two into town and place them into private custody,” said the Inspector. “No one sees either one of them without my presence. They’re going to be as safe as
houses until we can turn Mr. Gill over to the Judge’s bailiffs.”

 

“My pleasure, sir,” said Withers. “Let’s start with Estelle. We’ll take her to the
carriage first. Unlock the manacles, Pike. Grab an arm, Scott.”

 

The other constables did as they were told. Withers made sure Gill didn’t try to take
advantage. He needn’t have worried. If either one of them had done anything, I would
have demanded their nerves to imitate lava being poured on their skin.

 

“Put the manacles on, Pike, and take her out to the carriage,” said Withers. “Scott,
unlock Gill’s manacle from the table. Then bring his arm around. Then unlock the
other manacle and bring that arm around. We’ll lock his hands together.”

 

They accomplished the task in seconds. Gill looked glum as they led him out of the
room. He glared at me as he passed. I rubbed an ear as I watched him go.

 

“This is the end of the case if we can’t get him to talk,” said Lynley.

 

“How long can you hold him without letting him talk to an outsider?,” said Omes.

 

“Three days from the time he is admitted to the jail,” said Lynley.

 

“Is it possible to lose the paperwork until after the race,” said Omes. “Maybe shuffle
him around between stations instead of imprisoning him?”

 

“It would be a violation of the regulations,” said the Inspector. “What’s on your
mind?”

 

“I thought we could call his boss and tell him that Gill needed help, and that the horse
was going to run anyway,” said Omes.

 

“You want to tell Sammy Crim that his scheme failed,” said Inspector Lynley. He
turned the idea over in his mind. “You want to see what he will do.”

 

“I don’t see why not,” said Omes. “Gill will never tell us who he works for even
though the man’s number is in his cousin’s screen. The only thing we can do is try to
lure him down here and hope that’s enough of a trap that the Crown can put him on
Donegal Island for a good amount of time.”

 

“We would need to convince him that Gill was hurt and lost the pooka,” said Lynley.
“I think that would work some, but he would never come to horse country. He’ll send
some goons.”

 

“And since we’ll know that he told the goons to pick up our imaginary pooka, you’ll
be able to arrest him at least on suspicion so you can delve into his affairs enough
to get a real charge against him.”

 

“It might work,” said Lynley. “The key will be keeping Gill from a screen, and having
the right person make the call.”

 

“I’ll make the call,” said Omes. “After all, one little kid looks like another. We’re
beneath suspicion.”

 

Lynley nodded.

 

Omes placed his hat and coat out of the view of the screen. He ruffled up his hair
with a hand. Lynley and I stood out of sight. If Sammy Crim sent some goons to
finish the job, it might be enough to incriminate him.

 

If he didn’t, we would have to settle for the little fish and have a go at Sammy some
other time.

 

Omes dialed the number attached to the contact on the screen. He waited as the
bell buzzed for Sammy. The man’s bloated face showed on the screen. It had years
of unhappiness pulling it down.

 

“Who are you?,” asked the gambling king.

 

“I’m Jesse,” said Omes. “Mr. Gill asked me to call you. He got hurt and he said to
call and let you know so there wouldn’t be any problems Saturday.”

 

“How hurt is he?,” asked Sammy. He leaned in his own screen. I wish he would sit
back. His face gave me an itch.

 

“They took him to the hospital,” said Omes. “He was kicked by a horse is what I
heard, but I don’t really know what happened.”

 

“So he gave you this number and told you to call me?,” asked Sammy.

 

“He said you would be worried if he couldn’t do the job,” said Omes. “I just now got
here to use the screen to call.”

 

“Who else knows about this?,” asked Sammy.

 

“I don’t know,” said Omes. “I just know that Mr. Gill was hurt and he said to call his
boss. He gave me a slip of paper with the number on it.”

 

“Do you know what hospital Mr. Gill is in,” said Sammy.

 

“Nope,” said Omes. “I’m sure he will be at St. Agnes.”

 

“All right,” said Sammy. “I want you to wait there. I’ll send some people up there
to talk to Mr. Gill about the job. Are you at his cousin’s?”

 

“Yes,” said Omes. “She rode along when they helped Mr. Gill.”

 

“All right,” said Sammy. He looked furious. It was a quiet furious. I imagined when
the call was over he would stand up and kick his chair to express his fury. “Just stay
there until my people can get there. Then I want you to take them to the hospital.”

 

“Will I get paid?,” Omes asked. “Mr. Gill promised some money to me.”

 

“I’ll have the boys pay you when they get done at the hospital,” said Sammy. He cut
the call.

 

“That doesn’t sound ominous,” said Omes.

 

“I know,” said Lynley. He keyed in a number on the screen. He waited until he got
a switchboard operator. She frowned when she saw the blue coat of authority.

 

“How can I help you, sir?,” she said.

 

“I need to talk to whomever is in charge of admissions,” said Lynley. “This is an
emergency action.”

 

“Hold for a second,” said the operator. The screen flickered, then the bell buzzed to
let us know the call had been transferred.

 

“Hello,” said a new face. A smile full of false teeth and a shock of gray hair not quite
in place was my first impression. A busted nose said the teeth had been knocked out
by hand. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Someone will be checking on an E. Gill to see if he is a patient,” said Lynley. “I
need you to lie and place Gill in an empty room in the hospital.”

 

“Hold on,” said the administrator. “I’ll do it right now.”

 

He froze the screen so he could work on the admissions paperwork. He returned in
a second.

 

“What should I say is the injury?,” asked the admissions clerk.

 

“Put down for a broken rib, bruised spleen and liver, and a cracked pelvis,” I broke
in. “Left hand side. We want this to be a horse kicking.”

 

“I understand,” said the man. “Let me put that down.”

 

He went away for a bit. He returned a few seconds later with a smile.

 

“Everything is set up and ready, sir,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll need the
empty room?”

 

“We don’t know yet,” said Lynley. “We hope to arrange things before the race at the
end of the week.”

 

“All right,” said the clerk. “Hold on.”

 

The screen froze again. The wait was longer than the time needed to type something
in. The clerk returned with a smile showing a lot of his false teeth.

 

“Someone has called to check on your Mr. Gill,” said the clerk. “I told him the patient
was resting after being kicked by a horse. He sounded less than happy about the
news.”

 

“Good job,” said Lynley. “Which room did you leave for Gill? We’re going to need
to use it.”

 

“Room three hundred and sixty five,” said the clerk. “It’s to one side in the old tower
block.”

 

“We’re on the way,” said Lynley. “If anyone shows up in person, tell them Gill is
getting viewed for broken bones.”

 

“I’ll pass it along,” said the clerk. He cut the connection.

 

“So he was checking the story,” said Lynley. “The question is where will he go first?
Here, or the hospital?”

 

“It depends on whom he wants to talk to more,” said Omes. “And there is a question
of time. How long will it take for him to get some people together and come here?
Will he want to talk to Gill, Gill’s proxy which I am claiming, or go straight to Major
Fibbley’s estate to see what’s going on there?”

 

“I need more men,” said Lynley.

 

“Witsend and I can cover this house in case he comes here,” said Omes. “If you alert
Major Fibbley that he might have some trouble, he could get some of his followers
to be on the look out. Then all you would need is someone to cover the hospital.”

 

“You two are good with covering the house?,” said Lynley. “You won’t be able to
testify if Sammy comes here first.”

 

“We don’t have to if Witsend finds men breaking into a place that has been marked
for no trespassing,” said Omes. “It would be our civic duty to stop them.”

 

“I’m going to leave you Scott,” said Lynley. “We need someone who can say that
criminals broke into a place.”

 

“We’re fine with that,” said Omes. “Hurry up and make your arrangements. I have a
feeling Crim will take the next train, or windjammer, he can to get here.”

 

“Right,” said Lynley. “I also have to hide our two conspirators. Let’s get things going.
As soon as I have something, I will screen you to let you know the trap worked.”

 

“I’m sure he will want to talk to Gill more than he wants to talk to some kid who
passed him a message,” said Omes. “Don’t worry about us. Witsend will rip his arms
off if he shows up here.”

 

“Right,” said Lynley. He jogged out into the yard and gave orders for his constables
to get moving.

 

“Sammy Crim is coming here, isn’t he?,” I asked.

 

“I doubt it,” said Omes. “The only reason he would come here first is Estelle has been
letting him use her house as a base here in horse country to carry out his deeds.”

 

I gave him the stare of intimidation. Then I rubbed my ear.

 

“Which she has,” I said. “Setting traps with yourself as bait will get you killed one
day.”

 

“Not as long as I have you.”

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We raided the house’s supply of food. We didn’t know how long things would take,
and Estelle and Gill weren’t going to be eating there any time soon. Lynley left us
Scott, his newest constable, as our watchdog.

 

He didn’t want to explain how he got a child and a cat killed watching a house if he
was wrong about where Sammy Crim visited first.

 

I settled in to keep watch at the window after dinner. We didn’t know when Crim
would arrive in horse country. We talked about it and I was picked to take the first
watch in the night. Omes would have the center watch. Scott would have the watch
early in the morning.

 

If he arranged for an aircraft from the city, he could be in the region in hours.
Depending on the aircraft, he could land anywhere on the flat land that made up the
horse country. If he had to land in town, he would have to arrange for transport to
reach the farm.

 

We figured he wouldn’t be at the farm before the sun. We also didn’t want to chance
a local trying to take us on in the night. That was the major reason for a watch.

I wasn’t worried about any normal group of thugs. My life sense pinpointed anyone
who came within range. As long as they didn’t think to use a sniper with a decent
scope, we had better than even odds against a ground assault.

 

I warned Scott and Omes about that. I made sure that no one could see me in my
perch. If they could, they could see through the wall. There was nothing I could do
about that.

 

Scott barricaded the back with the dining room table and chairs. If they came at us
from there, they would have to knock the furniture out of the way. A braced chair
under the doorknob would slow things down until I could do what I had to do.

 

The only problem I foresaw was how many I needed to put to sleep versus how many
I was going to use my nerve disrupter on. Seeing a bunch of crooks trying to deal
with imaginary flames eating them would do me good.

 

I conceded that putting an enemy to sleep was quicker and easier in the long run.

I couldn’t just think of what would amuse me with Scott and Omes sharing the house
with me. One of them might be hurt if I played around instead of doing what was
necessary.

 

I settled in and napped and listened to my talent. Anything bigger than a bird brought
me to full alert status. It was a trick I had learned in the Army.

 

I turned the window over to Omes at about eleven. He settled in a chair so he could
look out at the road without being seen. He made sure to use the flimsy curtains as
cover. I remained in my perch, napping as the night wore on.

 

Scott took over on time. I listened to him move around after Omes had gone to bed
in Estelle’s bedroom. The constable had reported closing the shutters on that side of
the house. If Crim and any of his supporters arrived, they would have to break the
shutters to get in through the bedroom. That would make things so much easier for
me.

 

Scott settled to keep watch in the kitchen. He could see the front and that side of the
house. The shutters should keep anyone out of the bedroom on the other side of the
house. Any noise should draw everyone’s attention.

 

I knew Omes expected Crim to arrive at the house to at least threaten us. I wondered
what Crim thought about it.

 

I decided that he would do that just to show how tough he was, and he needed
somewhere to stage an assault on either Major Fibbley’s estate, or the hospital.
Estelle’s house was perfect for either thing.

 

I looked at the train of logic and decided that Omes was right. Some time in the next
few days we would be fighting.

 

I already planned to give Sammy some stomach problems to remember me by until
he got someone who could help him.

 

The sun came up and we raided the kitchen supplies again. I frowned at the dwindling
supply of milk. We needed to get more.

 

Scott and Omes split the eggs and bacon with me. I didn’t bother with the toast. I
lapped at my milk until it was gone. Then I returned to my perch next to the window.

 

A few hours later, I noted a wagon full of men turning into the private driveway
leading to the house. I rubbed an ear as I watched. This could be what we were
waiting to happen.

 

“We have some company,” I reported. “Scott, watch the back. Get ready to work
Omes. We want to drop them fast and silently. The more time they have, the chance
of hurting us will go up.”

 

“I’m ready,” said Omes. He slipped his gauntlet on. “How do you want to work this?”

 

“We let them come up to the house,” I said. “I count six. When they break in the door,
we take as many as we can before they enter the house. We’ll fall back to the kitchen
if we can’t take them all between the two of us.”

 

“Got it,” said Omes. “Got the plan, Constable Scott?”

 

“I’m ready in case we have to fight,” said the constable. “They seem to be
approaching the front door as a group.”

 

“Crim will want to get inside to plan his next move,” I said.

 

“Let’s see what we can do to stop that,” said Omes.

 

A knock sounded on the door. I had a view of the outside of the door from where I
sat. Omes was away from the door, using the couch for cover.

 

Crim waited for a minute. He knocked on the door again.

 

“Nobody home,” shouted Omes. “Go away.”

 

“Open this door,” shouted Crim.

 

“No,” said Omes. “I’m guarding the property. No visitors.”

 

“Open it,” shouted Crim. “Or else.”

 

“No,” shouted Omes back. “Go away.”

 

Crim stepped back. He gestured for one of his men to hit the door. It exploded inward
as the lock broke out of the frame.

 

“Go to sleep,” I said. The door opener hit the floor. He snored as his friends looked
at him.

 

They must have thought he had knocked himself out knocking the door out of the
way.

 

The rest of the group tried to fill the room. Omes and I alternated attacks until we had
a stack of thugs. Some were frozen, some were asleep. Crim looked at the pile in
dismay.

 

“You’re under arrest, sir,” said Scott. “If you don’t mind placing your hands behind
your head.”

 

“You can’t do this to me,” said Crim. He turned to run.

 

“Go to sleep,” I said. He froze in place before he fell to the ground.

 

“I think I have to call the Inspector,” said Scott. “You two should work for us. That
was brilliant.”

 

“I’m too young, Bill,” said Omes.

 

“I’m a doctor, not a policeman,” I said. “It looks like this whole thing is done.”

 

“I have to agree with that,” said Omes. “We’ll stick around until we can get these
prisoners turned over. You’ll have to take the credit, Bill. Can you do that?”

 

“I guess,” said Scott. “It doesn’t feel right.”

 

“I know,” said Omes. “We can’t testify. You’re the only one who can make any
charge stick.”

 

“And you were the best witness for it,” I said. “They break in, trip over themselves,
and knock each other out.”

 

Scott made a face as if visualizing a report of such unlikeliness. Five men knocking
each other out was the height of buffoonery.

 

“Let me call the Inspector,” said Scott. “I have a feeling I am going to need some help
to skirt all of the improper things that happened here.”

 

“I think we should get some lunch while we wait,” I said.

 

“I think we have abused the lady’s food enough,” said Omes. “But I could do with
some more of those cookies to take on the road.”

 

“What do I tell Inspector Lynley?,” asked Scott.

 

“Tell him we are going home and left him all the glory,” Omes said. “It wasn’t as neat
as I usually like to leave things, but now he has cause to search for a link between
Gill and Crim. That should keep him busy for a while.”

 

I didn’t mention that Omes would have to reverse the freezing. Let them stay
timelocked until someone figured it out.
 

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The Returned Finger 

1

I lay in the sun of the sun window and pawed at dust floating in the air. I was home
for the day after helping my partner with his child patients. We found it expedient to
put them to sleep, check them, wake them and pass them back to their parents. I had
gone out of town and he had checked my patients for me. The least I could do was
help him with his monsters.

 

I noted Sergeant Griggs coming up the walk. I decided that I didn’t have to leave my
place.

 

She held a box in her hands. I didn’t like that. That meant she wanted a job done. I
didn’t want a job, and I didn’t want to know what she had in the box. It signified
trouble. I could do without trouble.

 

How could I drive her away without attracting attention?

 

I decided to use the old standby and say find someone else.

 

Omes was out, and I was not a detective. I didn’t have to chase some faceless goon
down an alley to beat him senseless for some piece of statuary that I didn’t care about.

 

And I personally didn’t like Griggs. She had allowed a major summoning to occur
instead of massaging the law enough to give us a way not to be blamed for our
vigilante actions.

 

I could do without helping her with whatever her current problem was.

 

“Sergeant Griggs at the door,” said Addison. “She says it’s an emergency.”

 

“Did you tell her we’re out?,” I asked.

 

“She says she can see you in the window, Witsend,” said the brain of the house. “I
think you should at least hear her out.”

 

“Really?,” I said. “I didn’t think anyone could see into the window from outside.”

 

“Witsend,” said Addison. “I know you like to be petty, but please talk to this woman.”

 

“All right,” I said. “Give me a second.”

 

I went to Omes’s desk. He had three screens hooked together. Two of those screens
were running searches through the illegal Metropole connection we had procured
years ago to help Omes on his cases. I froze those searches and cut the visual so
Griggs couldn’t see what they were doing.

 

“Let her in, Addison,” I said. I remained sitting in Omes’s chair. I didn’t want her
sitting there with the chance she could see his notes.

 

Sergeant Griggs stepped in the parlor, thin in the outsized blue coat she wore, helmet
on her head. She carried her box under her arm. I saw something organic in the box.
I waited for her to speak first.

 

“Is Omes here?,” she asked.

 

I waved a paw around the makeshift office we used.

 

“I need to talk to him,” Griggs said. “I don’t think I have a lot of time.”

 

“What’s in the carrier?,” I asked. I rubbed my ear.

 

“A finger,” said Griggs.

 

“Excuse me,” I said. “Did you say a finger?”

 

I checked and noted she still had all ten of hers.

 

“Yes, a finger,” said Griggs. “Metropole is looking for the owner. I decided that

Omes should be brought in.”

 

I looked at her and considered. I knew Omes was still trying to track down the
mystery aircraft that had whisked the mystery mastermind away from the warehouse
where we had been nearly machinegunned to death.

 

“Let me see it,” I said.

 

She brought the box to the desk and opened it. I looked down inside. It was a finger
packed in ice and preservative. I estimated that it was a girl’s of maybe eight, possibly
as old as twelve. The end had already suffered some necrosis. I could fix that if we
found the rest of her in time.

 

“Close the box,” I said. “There’s a chance we can reattach it if we can find the girl in
time.”

 

“It’s a girl’s finger?,” Griggs asked. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” I said. “It’s obviously a girl’s finger.”

 

“Can I use your screen?,” she asked.

 

I jumped in front of the two doing the search so she could use the open one. She
dialed a number I was unfamiliar with, and asked to speak with Inspector Hierath.

 

The Inspector’s broad face filled the glass a minute later.

 

“Griggs?,” said Hierath. “Do you have anything?”

 

“The finger belongs to a young girl,” said Griggs. “It’s possible we’re looking for
someone who thought a girl lived at the residence.”

 

“We’ll send around to the schools,” said the Inspector. “Can your people find the
messenger?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” I said as I jumped on the desk. “Omes can track anything. The
problem is the girl might still lose the finger if we’re not ready to operate as soon as
we find her. I’m going to send my nurse to my office to open it up. As soon as we find
the girl, we’ll take her there and I’ll put the finger back on.”

 

“All right,” said the Inspector. “What do you need from my end?”

 

“I want you to send someone to pick her up and help get things ready,” I said. “I’m
going to messenger the finger to the office so it will be there. As soon as we find the
girl, that’s where we’re going.”

 

“All right,” said Hierath.

 

I gave him Elga’s address. And then I cut the line.

 

I made two calls next. The first was to Elga Spangler, my nurse and personal
assistant. I told her what was going on and what I needed her to do. She said she
would be ready for the constable to arrive to pick her up.

 

The second call was to a messenger service I used to send samples to the hospital. I
told them I need them at the entrance to Time Village, and I needed to send the box
to my office. They quoted me a price about half more of what I usually paid. I told the
dispatcher that Metropole would pay double if he could get there in the next few
minutes. I cut the connection on his assurances.

 

“Omes is coming down the street,” reported Addison.

 

“Good,” I said. “His gauntlet is just what we need right now.”

 

Addison stopped to let Omes inside the house. He didn’t spin up again. We were
going to be leaving in a few minutes. After that, he could spin the house outside space
and time.

 

“I’m home, Witsend,” said Omes.

 

“We have a case,” I said. “Come here.”

 

Omes stepped into the room, pushing his bowler back from his face. He glanced at
Griggs, then the box on his desk.

 

“How do you do, Sergeant?,” asked Omes. “Witsend hasn’t been assaulting mimes
again, has he?”

 

“What?,” said Griggs.

 

“Never you mind about that,” I said. “Omes, I need you to timelock the finger in this
box to buy us time.”

 

“All right,” said Omes. Griggs opened the box and he froze the contents. The ice
wouldn’t melt now. “What’s going on?”

 

“This box arrived by messenger to a house in East Canaan,” said Griggs. “A note was
attached that said if the owner of the house wanted the rest of his kid back, then he
better get together a million silver.”

 

“But he doesn’t have the money, and he doesn’t have a kid,” said Omes. “That’s
where Witsend and I come in, I take it.”

 

“The Inspector and his counterparts are combing the city for any missing children
to identify the victim at least,” said Griggs. “I told him that you can track the
messenger down.”

 

“That’s a lot of faith in us,” Omes said. He looked down at me. “What do you think,
Witsend?”

 

“I will feast on my enemy’s gizzard tonight,” I told him. “Let’s go.”

 

I led the way out of the parlor. We exited Twenty Two Bee and headed up the road
to the entrance to that cut off from the city. Houses flickered in and out of existence
as we walked.

 

“There’s the messenger service,” I said. I rubbed an ear as I recognized the man in the
brown uniform. “Hello, Brad.”

 

“Hello, Doc,” said Brad Montre. “What am I delivering today?”

 

“A finger,” I said. “Sergeant, I need you to write a note. Elga needs to know the finger
is timelocked until Omes unlocks it.”

 

“Right,” said Griggs. She pulled out a note pad and pencil. She wrote the information
down in quick sharp motions of her hand. She tore the sheet off and put it in the box.

 

“Brad, if we beat you to my office,” I said. “You will never use your kneecaps again.
Understand?”

 

“You’re pretty mean for a doctor,” Brad said. He took the box from Griggs.

 

“Kneecaps, Brad,” I said. “This is important, and not some tissue sample that you can
screw up like you did with MacGillicuddy’s cornea.”

 

“That was not me,” said Brad. “I told you what happened.”

 

“Be at my office, or you will be at my office,” I said. I twitched my tail.

 

“You’re Metropole,” said Brad. “You can’t let him talk to me like that.”

 

“If anything happens to this box,” said Griggs. “The entirety of the force will descend
on you and your business. There will be nothing left. You will spend the rest of your
life on Donegal Island, communing with nature.”

 

“Are you going to threaten me too?,” Brad asked Omes.

 

“I don’t do that, Brad,” said Omes. “Witsend is the one that rips off the arms. I will
say I wouldn’t stop anywhere until you make your delivery. This is important to us
and to the little girl who lost the finger. If anything happens, your company will be
liable. You know what that means. Advocates have less mercy than the Crown in
my experience. Just do a good job, and be careful. That’s all we want.”

 

Brad nodded. He stored the box in a pannier on his horse. He rode off with the
clumping of the horse’s shoes against the cobblestones.

 

I watched him go. I wanted to get the box back.

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Omes said. “We have to find the rest of the little girl.
Griggs, we need to start at your residence. Then we can trace the messenger for you.”

 

“The messenger?,” asked Griggs.

 

“We can’t trace the little girl,” said Omes. “We have no idea where she disappeared
from and where she lost the finger. So we have to start with how the box got to the
residence. Then we can start moving back down the line.”

 

“You can find him?,” asked Griggs.

 

“Maybe,” said Omes. “Times wasting. Let’s get started.”

 

Griggs led us to a Metropole carriage. Another bluecoat sat on the bench. He nodded,
but I knew he didn’t know what to make of a black cat and a boy in white wearing
a coat and bowler.

 

“These your experts?,” he asked.

 

“Inspector Hierath will excuse me rendering you obsolete if I can demonstrate
results,” I said. “I can make it happen.”

 

“Yes, and they’re prickly,” said Griggs. “Take us back to the Lawford house. That’s
where we starting.”

 

Omes centered himself in the back seat and watched the city go by as we headed up
to East Canaan. He had shut his brain down to avoid trying to fit pieces we didn’t
have into the puzzle.

 

I sat beside Omes idly wondering how hard it would be to replace our driver after he
fell in front of the carriage and was sadly ran over by the wheels.

 

I started counting the individual broken bones as the carriage rolled down the clean
branch of the river Tam into the sprawling neighborhood of the East Canaan. Each
place was a colorful brick, and they were stacked around each other. Traditional
houses fitted into open spaces when they could. Docks provided mooring for the river
sailors. Various business dotted both sides of the street.

 

Our driver pulled up down the street from a house with a small detachment of blue
coats surrounding it.

 

“Wait here,” said Omes. He slipped out the carriage. “I just need to get an original
reading on the place. I’ll be right back.”

 

“What’s he doing?,” asked the driver.

 

“He’s scenting the trail,” said Griggs. “That boy is a phenomenon. I doubted him and
the cat when I met them. That was a mistake I won’t repeat. And he is relentless. If
he can’t find the girl, no one can.”

 

I glowed inside. It was good to know I had made an impression.

 

“And the cat put down a two story hellhound,” said Griggs. “Think about what he
could do to you if he gets angry about it.”

 

The driver looked at me. I smiled back at him.

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52 minutes ago, Pattern Ghost said:

I'm going to have to try for the July Camp NanoWriMo. I've been trying to shove JavaScript into my brain, and it's been keeping me busy.

Sorry to hear that PG. I admit I like it that the camps can let you drop down to 7k if you want it. Sometimes that's all you can do.

CES

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2

Omes returned to the carriage. He looked up at the blue coats with a faint smile.

 

“The trail leads that way,” Omes said. He pointed down the street. “The messenger
was riding a wheeled horse. I’m going to follow that as much as I can. Just go around
the block and follow me.”

 

“Time,” said Griggs.

 

“I know, but until I pick out a clear trail, we have to walk,” said Omes. “Just go
around and meet me.”

 

He started down the street. His head was down as if examining the road as he walked.

 

“Go ahead,” said Griggs. “I think he already has something we can use.”

 

“Our messenger drove a motorhorse.” The other blue coat made a noise. He told the
carriage to drive forward while he looked for a place to turn ahead. “Not many
messengers out there do that.”

 

“That leaves us with the option that the messenger was the kidnaper,” said Griggs.
“This could be a one man show.”

 

“The girl might already be dead,” said the blue coat.

 

“We can’t worry about that right now,” said Griggs. “First, we have to find her, no
matter what condition she is in. Then we can find the man. Once we do that, we run
him through the court with whatever evidence we gather along the way.”

 

“We’ll find the man first, if he was the messenger,” I said. “Omes will have a good
idea where he is going in a few minutes.”

 

“Are you sure,” said the blue coat.

 

“It’s his expertise,” I said. “I’m a gifted doctor with years of practice in taking things
out of the body and making sure it works. Omes is a gifted tracker. Even if he loses
the trail, he’ll find some other way to hunt the man down. It’s what he does.”

 

The carriage rolled to a stop as Omes came to the corner and looked in all four
directions. He smiled.

 

“Let’s go down the river toward the Industrial Quarter,” Omes said. “I have a feeling

he crossed the river somewhere.”

 

“Do you think he went into the Quarter?,” asked the blue coat.

 

“I don’t know, Constable,” said Omes. He boarded the carriage. “He seems to be
running in a straight line that way, so it won’t hurt us to go look. He might have
swung north to head up into the Annex. The girl’s hand would have to be treated if
he wanted to keep her alive.”

 

“He might not want to keep her alive once he knows he tried to demand a ransom
from the wrong person,” said the constable.

 

“Then we’ll turn him in for the rope,” said Omes. “We’re going to find him. Just think
positive and let me work.”

 

“What if he heads south?,” asked Griggs.

 

“Then he has an unknown amount of time to ride the river to the locks, then the
ocean,” said Omes. “You’ll have to get us a boat.”

 

“I don’t know if I can get a boat,” said Griggs. “I might be able to borrow something
from the navy if I’m lucky.”

 

“If he makes it out to the ocean, then a ship is what’s going to be needed to trail him,”
said Omes. “Don’t worry about that just yet. Just keep going straight until you reach
the cross waterway.”

 

The Tam came in from the north and split into two branches. One continued south
pass the Industrial Quarter. It was heavily polluted and contained animals trapped in
a scientific undeath brought on by chemistry. The other turned east into East Canaan
and was rendered clean by a heavy duty filtering system at the source of the branch
off.

 

Sometimes the polluted part of the Tam breached the filtering system. The residents
and city workers cleaned the water as fast as they could, and got rid of the
contaminants. Someone usually died when they didn’t get the done fast enough.

 

Sometimes they didn’t and spent the rest of their shortened lives as scientific
curiosities.

 

The carriage pulled to a stop beside the wall that marked the filtering unit across
the East Tam branch of the river. Omes descended from the carriage and looked
around. He paused at the wall and hunkered down to examine it more closely.

 

“He went north toward the Annex,” he reported. “Witsend and I will keep on the trail.
You two take the carriage and circle around. You should be able to catch up with us
in a few minutes.”

 

“Take the carriage around, Bob,” Griggs said. She climbed down to the ground.
“One of us has to be there when we find the girl.”

 

“Where do you want to meet?,” said Constable Bob.

 

“We’re going to be going straight for a bit,” said Omes. “Just come back to this street
on the other side of the wall, and go straight along.”

 

“All right,” said Bob. He backed up and turned around. He headed back the way we
came to reach a bridge and then drive back to the filtering unit.

 

“Let’s go,” Omes said.

 

He stepped on the filtering wall and marched across.

 

I noted black spots on the top of the wall as I followed him. A crosshatch marking a tire appeared in a couple of spots. That was all the proof we needed that the motor horse had come this way.

 

“Any indication whom the kidnaper thought the resident he was delivering his threat
to was?,” asked Omes.

 

“Someone named Landon,” said Griggs. “We did a record search of the house. A
couple named Landon lived there years ago. They moved out five years ago, and the
current occupant moved in.”

 

“Did the Landons have children?,” asked Omes.

 

“Two boys,” said Griggs. “Both are grown men now. One went into the Army and
is stationed at the Point. The other set himself up as a shopkeeper at the Cliffs right
at the Channel Bridge.”

 

“So not only did he threaten the wrong person, he grabbed a child that didn’t fit the
profile,” said Omes. “It suggests some lost time going on.”

 

“Or dementia,” I said. “He might have jumbled his memory and acted on what he
thought was true.”

 

“The why doesn’t matter yet,” said Griggs. “The where is more important if we want
to find the victim. She still might be alive.”

 

“If he has a reason to keep her alive, then she is,” Omes said. “If he did worse than
cut off her finger, there’s nothing we can do about that. The only thing we can do is
keep on the trail until we find him, or her.”

 

“And we will find them,” I said. “The girl is close by now.”

 

“How do you know that?,” asked Griggs.

 

“A trace of her DNA is in the air,” I said. “Only a trace. It’s like she touched
something and left part of her self.”

 

“The bike is still running parallel to the Tam,” said Omes. He pointed at the oil
spots on the road. “He might have crossed over to the Quarter somewhere.”

 

“Maybe,” I said. “The amount of trace isn’t increasing. Maybe this is something
left from traveling with the finger on his motor horse.”

 

“I see a bike over there,” Omes said. “It doesn’t look like the one we want.”

 

“It might belong to an accomplice,” said Griggs.

 

“It doesn’t matter unless they see us and guess we’re closing in on them,” Omes said. “Let’s continue until we find a bridge we can use.”

 

“There’s the Winter up ahead,” Griggs said. “He might have crossed there.”

 

“The Winter throws down snow, doesn’t it?” said Omes. “I don’t think I have tried
to cross it.”

 

“Neither have I,” I admitted.

 

“I have,” said Griggs. “Conditions on the bridge are close to a blizzard toward the
center.”

 

“If he went over that, he must have been ready for it,” Omes said. “Let’s go. He might
still be on the bridge if we’re lucky.”

 

“We’re not that lucky,” I said. On the other hand, if he was frozen, we could follow
his trail without worrying about him coming home to catch us in the pantry looking
for cookies.

 

We walked down to the Winter Bridge. It crossed over the polluted Tam, joining
the eastern side with the western. A path on the other side led to a checkpoint
heading into the Quarter.

 

Snow fell on the bridge. None of the white stuff fell over the sides. I looked up
at the gray cloud hovering over the white stone. What kind of idiot would make
something like this.

 

“I’ll go across first,” said Omes. “You two follow me.”

 

“What about Bob?,” said Griggs.

 

“He’ll have to go around,” said Omes. “Get ready. As soon as I get across, you two
come ahead. It might not be that bad at all.”

 

I looked at him. Thunder Bridge caused lightning to drop down out of the sky and
attack anyone trying to cross. How could he expect this bridge to be any better?

 

“Here I go,” said Omes. He started on the bridge. He held his hand up as he ran. I
noticed that some of the clouds stopped dropping snow on the bridge as he moved
forward.

 

“Go ahead, Griggs,” I said. “I think Omes stopped part of the snow from falling.”

 

“All right,” she said. She jogged across the bridge. She wound up with a light dusting
on the shoulders of her coat.

 

I followed as quickly as I could. I didn’t like the cold in contact with my paws, nor
the wet rain on my back. I bounded off the bridge on the other side.

 

Omes pointed his gauntlet at the cloud. The snow returned to falling in its usual
density. He straightened his coat and hat.

 

“That was okay,” said Omes. “Let’s talk to the checkpoint people. Then we can
head into the Quarter.”

 

“Why do you think he came here?,” Griggs fell in with us as we walked over to the
wall that was supposed to keep people like us out of the heavily mechanized part
of the city.

 

“Don’t know,” said Omes. “I think maybe as additional security against outsiders.”

 

“We’ll see how that works for him,” said Griggs.

 

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Omes kept on the trail as Griggs got us through the gate. I sneezed. The air was
polluted and drifting around like the snow on the Winter bridge. When was someone
going to do something about this?

 

Omes paused at the next street corner. He turned in a circle. He frowned.

 

“He’s been all over this street,” said Omes. “I’m going to need a moment to straighten
things out.”

 

“What do you mean?,” said Griggs. She looked at the steel towers reaching up into
the sky.

 

“He’s been in each of these buildings since he left the finger,” said Omes. “You could
probably find out who he is now if you went in and started asking around.”

 

“Maybe not a full name,” said Griggs. “But we could spread the word for them to call
Metropole if he shows up again.”

 

Omes nodded.

 

I expected it would take more manpower than the three of us to talk to every
receptionist that our messenger had visited. Griggs should ask for that manpower
before we reach an area that didn’t have a screen to call for help.

 

On the other hand, an army of blue coats might scare our messenger into hiding. The
girl didn’t have long before we couldn’t reattach her finger if she was still alive.

 

“I think I have the trail again,” said Omes. “Let’s go this way.”

 

He pointed down the steel canyon before starting down the walk. He scanned the
street as he went.

 

“Sergeant Griggs,” I said. “Call your inspector and find out if there are any places not
used down this way. It might narrow things down.”

 

“Good idea, Doctor,” she said. She went into the nearest building, her blue coat
waving off the guard as she entered.

 

“He’s crisscrossed his trail, Witsend,” said Omes. “I think we’re on the right track,
but I’m not sure.”

 

“We’re heading toward where we saw the other motor horse,” I said. “Let’s keep
going in this direction.”

 

I scanned the air, but the girl’s DNA didn’t hang in the polluted space we were
crossing. If the air was cleaner, I might have been able to extract her traces from the
others that would have surely be there with the workers that operated in the Quarter.

 

“All right,” said Omes. We crossed two more blocks and he smiled. I knew he had
a clearer picture. “He split off here.”

 

“Which way?,” I asked.

 

“He’s headed toward the wall and river,” said Omes. “Maybe that other motor horse
is a spare transport.”

 

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe he has a partner that we should be wary of until we know
one way or the other.”

 

“Good point,” said Omes. “He went that way, turning to the right.”

 

“We need to slow down,” I said. “If he sees us, he might realize something is up.”

 

“I’m more worried what will happen if he sees Griggs, or other blue coats, in the
street,” said Omes. He paused at the corner. “All right he turned back to the wall.”

 

“So he might have a priest hole in the wall,” I said. “How do we find it without letting
him know we’re looking for him?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Omes. “It depends on how aware of his surroundings he is.”

 

“Let’s circle to the wall,” I said. “Now that we know that’s where he’s going, we
don’t have to follow the exact trail anymore.”

 

“I think you should wait for Griggs,” said Omes. “We don’t want her blundering on
the scene.”

 

“I think you should wait for Griggs because you have a bad habit of getting into
trouble,” I said. I rubbed an ear.

 

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Omes.

 

“I said it for you,” I said. “We’ll wait to keep Griggs appraised of what we think is
going on. Then we will try to approach without being seen.”

 

“With Griggs?,” asked Omes. He crossed his arms.

 

“Definitely not,” I said. “She can stay here and move Metropole into the area to
cordon things off.”

 

“All right,” said Omes. “There is a chance he might leave. We should go in if he
does.”

 

“Agreed,” I said. “You might have to freeze the girl. Be ready for that. We need
to keep the necrosis of her hand to the minimum so we can reattach her finger.”

 

“I understand,” said Omes.

 

Griggs joined us as we kept watch. She looked around, but her expression said she
didn’t see anything important.

 

“Inspector Hierath said there were two closed warehouses, and six closed offices in
this part of town,” said Griggs. “What do you think?”

 

“We think he took refuge in the wall,” said Omes. “We were debating going in and
looking around without you. We feel that you would cause him to panic and kill the
girl instead of giving up.”

 

“So what am I supposed to do while you two try to rescue the girl?,” asked Griggs.

 

“We want you to ask Metropole to send men down and cordon off this part of the
Quarter,” said Omes. “You might need to send men down the other side of the wall
on boats.”

 

“Tell them to concentrate on where we saw the motor horse,” I said. “That might be
his back door.”

 

“I can’t allow you to go in and risk the girl’s life,” said Griggs.

 

“You can’t stop us,” said Omes. “And we’re still in front of things. Call Hierath and
tell him that you need enough men to cordon off say ten blocks from this corner.”

 

“Also you’ll need some way to stop a motor horse if he runs,” I said. “I doubt you will
be able to stop him with your glowering look.”

 

“And what will you two be doing?,” she asked.

 

“We think he has an access door into the wall,” said Omes. “We’re going to go
down and look for it.”

 

“What happens if he sees you?,” she asked.

 

“Nothing,” said Omes. “We’re a boy and a feral cat wandering in the Quarter. It might
be strange, but it’s a different story if he sees a blue coat.”

 

“Give me a few minutes to make the call,” Griggs said. “Then you can start
searching.”

 

“If he goes by on his motor horse, act like you’re not looking for him,” I said.

 

“Thanks,” said Griggs. “Remember, wait for me to come back. Don’t do anything
rash.”

 

She went into the nearest building. I saw her talking to someone through the rare
glass door.

 

“Let’s go,” said Omes. “We need to move before regulations strangle our
momentum.”

 

“There are reasons for rules,” I said.

 

“And there are exceptions for those,” he said as he crossed the street. He looked to
his right, but kept going straight. He reached the other side of the block and kept
going.

 

I followed at a slower pace. I didn’t like it, but if we could find the door into the wall,
then we could stand back and let the Metro do the rest.

 

They wouldn’t like Omes and me taking the law into our hands.

 

On the other hand, I could look forward to time as an Infirmary doctor on Donegal
Island unless they took me apart. Omes would die, or be forced into the orphan
system.

 

He would never be allowed to be a detective again.

 

We kept going until we were in the narrow street running along the inside of the
Quarter’s wall. We turned right to follow it down to where we expected to see our
door. Opening a door in the wall should be a snap for a natural burglar like Omes.

 

I made sure to keep back in case Security had fitted automatic defenses to keep
vandals away from the wall. I didn’t want to get caught in anything that might catch
Omes first.

 

He paused with a nod of his head. He looked around again.

 

“This is it,” Omes said. “He went in here. There’s the oil.”

 

I looked at the blank piece of metal and rubbed my ear.

 

“There’s a handle,” said Omes. “I’m going in. Stay here and direct Griggs down
here.”

 

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I go in, you stay out here. I put our messenger to sleep.
You get Griggs so she can get the girl and me to my office so I can operate.”

 

“I don’t get any of the excitement,” Omes said.

 

“We’re not here for the excitement,” I said. “We’re here to save a little girl and
put down a human monster.”

 

“What if he isn’t human?,” asked Omes. “You might need me.”

 

“I will run for my life and lure him to his doom,” I said. “Please open the door.”

 

He reached up and pressed part of the wall. A lid flipped open to show a keypad and
a lever. He typed a number into the keypad, then pulled the lever. Part of the wall slid
out of the way to reveal a door.

 

He stepped inside before I could stop him. The door slid back in place. I cursed
loudly.

 

That boy. I fumed as I raced back to talk to Griggs. I needed a pair of hands. Hers
would have to do.

 

I should have seen that trick coming from a mile away. Of course, he was going in to
find the girl.

 

I found Griggs standing on the street corner. She looked pained to only see me.

 

“Men are on the way to help us,” she said.

 

“Too late for that,” I said. “We’re going to have to go in and confront this man now.
Has Constable Bob arrived with the carriage yet?”

 

“No,” said Griggs. “He might still be trying to get to the gate we came through.”

 

“I need your hands,” I said. “Let’s go.”

 

“My hands?,” said Griggs. “Why my hands?”

 

“Because I can’t reach the door handle,” I said. “Let’s get a move on. Omes is
probably getting his brains dashed in right now.”

 

“All right,” said Griggs. “The Inspector is sending people. They know to spread out
on this side of the wall. All we have to do is stall so they can get here.”

 

“We will,” I said. I turned and headed back to the hidden door.

 

I reached the door. The hidden panel was still open. Griggs arrived a few seconds
later.

 

“How do we open it?,” she asked.

 

“Like this,” I said. I took control of a hand and keyed in the numbers, then pulled the
lever. “Hurry.”

 

We leaped through the door before it could close. The heavy metal made a sound that
said it would crush anything that got in its way. A two stone cat and a nine stone
Metropole officer would be paste where the edge met the frame.

 

I marked Omes’s trace immediately. An older trace, and one still older, preceded from
the exit. I started down the hall after them. Pipes and boxes covered the walls. I
assumed they were for power and to help channel water from the river into the
Quarter for industrial use.

 

Drinking the stuff was out.

 

Griggs kept silent as she followed me. I appreciated that. The last thing I needed was
for her to talk and let the kidnaper know we were in his home looking for him.

 

A brighter light than the ones on the walls over the piping shone ahead. I hurried to
investigate.

 

I hoped Omes hadn’t done something rash.

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Griggs and I skulked to the light. She peeked around the corner before jumping to the
other side of the door. I took a moment to look inside. A motor horse rested on a peg
sticking out of the side.

 

So he was here in the wall somewhere. I turned my attention back to the trace. I
concentrated on the oldest. I trotted after the webbing of it.

 

Omes would be following the messenger in the hopes he would lead him to the girl.
Now that I had something filtering the pollution out, I had a better picture of which
direction she was in.

 

I turned left, then right, then left again. I paused in front of a closed door. The trace
from the girl was all over the door. How did we get it open? We needed Omes for
this.

 

“The girl is behind this door,” I whispered. “It looks like he hasn’t come down here
since he took her finger.”

 

“We need to open this door somehow,” said Griggs, echoing my own thoughts. “We
need to find Omes, don’t we?”

 

“Or I take you back to the exit, you call an army down here and bring them back to
get the girl,” I said. “I find Omes and the kidnaper and deal with them.”

 

“I don’t think that would be good,” said Griggs. “Let’s find Omes and open the door.
We can come back and get the kidnaper later.”

 

“This way,” I said. I locked on to Omes’s traces and started after it.

 

I kept the namecalling inside my skull. Running into danger was not what I would
call a successful career strategy. And I found it annoying. The least he could do
was not cause problems for me.

 

We found Omes standing outside a closed door. He held his gauntlet ready to use. He
looked worried when he saw us coming along.

 

“We found the girl,” I said. “We need you to open the door for us so we can leave.”

 

“All right,” Omes said. He pointed his gauntlet at the door and timelocked it so it
couldn’t be open. “This guy was talking to himself in three different voices.”

 

“We’ll worry about that later,” I said. “We have to get the girl out of here now.”

Right,” said Omes. “Let’s do that. I don’t know if there’s another door out of
there, but I don’t want to find out while we’re trying to get out of here.”

 

I led the way back to the door with the girl’s trace on it. I didn’t like the fact that
we could be dealing with a madman. He might have already chopped the girl up and 
made the ransom demand as a spurious thing to get the Metropole to chase its own
tail around.

 

“This the door?,” Omes asked.

 

“Yes,” I said.

 

“Yes,” said Griggs. “There’s the number for the section on the wall.”

 

Omes flipped open a cover and typed in the numbers for a password. He pulled a
lever and the door opened for us. He pressed another button to lock the door open.

I jumped over the threshold. I twitched my tail when I saw the girl sitting on the bed.
One of her hands was wrapped. A bandage covered her eye. The scan I did fueled my
rage into a bonfire of hatred. I tamped down on it. I needed to get things done for this
girl first.

 

Revenge would have to come later.

 

“Who are you?,” said the girl. “Are you going to hurt me some more?”

 

“I’m Dr. Witsend,” I said. I jumped up on the bed. A chain hooked her to the
bed. It was passed through a metal ring welded around her neck. I frowned at
the burn marks that I could see under the collar. “The boy is Murdock Omes.
The blue coat is Sergeant Griggs. We’re here to get you out of here and take
you someplace safe.”

 

“You’ll take me away from here?,” the girl said. She started crying.

 

“Yes,” I said. “The first thing we’re going to is try to get this chain off so we can take
you to my office so I can examine you and see what I can do about your pain.
Understand?”

 

“Yes,” said the girl. “He chopped off my finger, and took my eye. He said it was for
science.”

 

“I’ll show him some science,” I said.

 

“I found a prybar,” said Omes. “We might be able to break the chain with it, or pull
it out of the wall so we can move her.”

 

“You two go ahead and try,” I said. “We’ll need a cutter to get this thing off her
neck.”

 

Omes climbed on the bed. He jammed the prybar into a link close to where the chain
was slipped through a ring in the wall. He leaned into it. Griggs threw her weight
against him. After some effort, they pried the link apart enough to slip the next link
from its grip. I nodded as they pulled the chain apart.

 

“Hold this,” Omes handed the girl the rest of the chain.

 

“We need to get her out of here,” I said. “Can you walk, girl?”

 

“Yes,” said the girl. “My name is Landon.”

 

“Your name is Landon?,” I said. “Of course it is. Stand up. Sergeant Griggs will help
you along. Omes, go ahead. We’ll be right behind you.”

 

“Right,” said Omes. “Follow me.”

 

He stepped out in the hall, looking both ways. Sergeant Griggs and Landon stepped
out after him. I stepped out last. I kept an eye out for traces from our madman as I
brought up the rear.

 

He took her eye and finger for science. I couldn’t wait to come back and deal with
him after I put the finger back on Landon’s hand. I would show him some biological
science.

 

“He’s crazy,” said Landon. “He said he was going to show the city what he could do.”

 

“As soon as you’re safe, we’ll deal with him,” said Griggs.

 

“Sooner, if he escaped out of the chamber we locked on him,” I said. “I would
love to talk to him for a minute.”

 

Then our kidnaper appeared in front of our line of refugees. He knocked Omes to the
ground with a backhand. He reached for Landon. She screamed. Griggs turned to
shield the little girl with her body.

 

I attacked. I grabbed off of his nerves and set them on fire. He staggered back from
the shock he received. I cut his brain off. He fell down. I noticed that his brain tried
to awaken. I traced the signal to a node fitted to his spine. A redundant nervous
system was trying to keep him on his feet.

 

It was too bad I wasn’t shooting him with a gun of some sort.

 

“Take them out of here, Omes,” I said. I ripped at his extra nerves.

 

Omes got to his feet. He pointed his gauntlet. One shot froze the thing in place.

 

“Now we all go,” he said. He picked up his bowler. He brushed it off before he put
it on his head.

 

“Go ahead, Griggs,” I said. “You and Landon should head for the door. We’ll provide
security in case there’s another one running around.”

 

“Right,” she said. She picked up Landon and headed down the hall.

 

Omes joined her, keeping his gauntlet ready to work in case something else popped
out of the shadows.

 

I looked at my impressions of the monster again. It was a good thing that Omes had
his gauntlet. Three nervous systems with parallel systems wasn’t natural.

 

Who had made this thing and set him on Landon? I needed to do some more
investigating after I did what I could for her.

 

Someone needed to pay for this.

 

Omes opened the outer door for us. He stepped out and cleared the outer wall. Blue
coats approached. Whistling filled the air to attract more troops.

 

“My office is in the Annex,” I said. “We need to take her to the office so I can work
on her. Leave that thing frozen until I get done with Landon. It wasn’t a natural
monster.”

 

“Who would build a monster?,” asked Griggs. “Don’t we have enough regular
monsters in the world?”

 

“I don’t know,” I said. “I intend to find out.”

 

I noted Omes and Griggs looking at each other. Someone was going to pay. I had set
my mind to it. And nothing was going to change that.

 

Constable Bob stood beside the carriage he had picked us up with at Twenty Two
Bee. He looked less than happy.

 

“We need to get to my office as soon as possible,” I told him. “Omes, ride with us.
Griggs, stay here until I come back to pick you up. Do not do anything else.”

 

“The guy?,” Omes asked. He waved at the wall.

 

“Leave him,” I said. “Get in the carriage. That is a command.”

 

“You’re not the boss of me,” he said. The age old response the young have for their
elders. I squinted at him, ears going back. He got in the carriage. “But I will wait for
you to get done so we can come back.”

 

“You had better,” I said. “Drive on, Constable Bob. We need to get things done as
fast as we can.”

 

“Yes, sir,” said Bob. He started the carriage and turned it into a circle. He headed for
the gap in the wall so he could head north into the medical and physical science part
of the city.

 

“I’m going to need you to unfreeze the finger when we get to the office,” I said. “Then we can put it back on.”

 

“Right,” said Omes. “I can do that.”

 

“Then we have to find her parents,” I said. “Constable Bob can do that while I work.”

 

“I’ll need a name to get started,” said Bob.

 

“My name is Landon Parks,” said the girl. “My da’s name is Roofert, ma’s is
Caroleen.”

 

“I’ll start running the names as soon as I drop you off,” said Bob.

 

“We’re going to need a lift back down to the wall,” I said. “Landon’s kidnaper is
not safe to move by regular humans.”

 

“No problem,” said Bob. “At least you found her before he did worse.”

 

“Landon might not have been the first one,” I said. “That’s why we’re going back and
making sure that this doesn’t happen again.”

 

“Landon,” I said. “I can’t fix your eye. I’m sorry. I can fix your hand.”

 

“I understand,” said Landon. “You’re a good pussy cat.”

 

She rubbed my fur with her uninjured hand. The snickers of our companions stopped
at my squinting glare.

 

“There’s the office, Witsend,” said Omes. He pointed at the old pile of stone with a
metal sign on the front.

 

“Wait outside,” I said. “Elga and I will do our jobs without you.”

 

Constable Bob pulled up to the front of the office. He picked up Landon as gently as
he could. Elga opened the door for us. She gestured for us to come inside.

 

Time to go to work.

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“All right, Landon,” I said. Elga directed Constable Bob to put the girl down on the
examination table I used. “We’re going to have to check you out. Do you
understand?”

 

“Yes, Doctor Cat,” she said. She tried to smile. It didn’t look good.

 

“Omes, unfreeze the finger,” I said. “The box is on the counter.”

 

Omes opened the box as Elga unwrapped Landon’s hand. The frown on her face was
on the par with my own thoughts on the subject. He raised the gauntlet and unlocked
the digit.

 

“Can I borrow a screen?,” Constable Bob asked.

 

“There’s one on the counter,” said Elga. She pointed in the office area. “Have Marnie
unlock it so you can make calls.”

 

“Right,” said Bob. He left the examination room.

 

“You can leave too, Omes,” I said. “Don’t go very far.”

 

“I will be right outside,” said Omes. “It was nice to meet you, Landon.”

 

He shut the door behind him.

 

I examined the stump where the finger went. Some of the tissue was already dead.
I needed to do something about that before I could operate.

 

“I’m going to block the nerves in your hand, Landon,” I said. “I don’t want you
to feel me and Elga trying to put your hand back together. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, Doctor Cat,” Landon said. “You’re going to put my hand to sleep.”

 

“Exactly,” I said. “Let me know when you can’t feel my paw anymore.”

 

I started at the wrist and traced the nerves to the stump. I inserted blocks and shut
the nerves down one by one. When I was done, I would put a conditional block in
to keep the pain down but it would fade away to let her get used to using the hand
again.

 

“I can’t feel my hand, Doctor Cat,” Landon reported.

 

“Good,” I said. “If you could, this would hurt. I don’t want to hurt you but a small
amount is going to be necessary to fix your hand. I’m sorry about that, Landon.”

 

“It’s okay,” said Landon. “I broke my arm once. I can take a little pain.”

 

“How did you break your arm, Landon?,” I asked. I spotted the break with a cursory
look. It had healed nicely from the looks of things. I realized we could find her doctor
if she knew his name.

 

“I fell down some stairs at school,” she said. The way she said it meant there was
some other things going on besides the falling.

 

Elga cleaned the stump on the hand. I rotted away as much of the bad material there
while adding on good. Fast healing like that was not good, but it had to be done
for the moment. Putting the finger back on to dead tissue would just cause the finger
to rot and have to be permanently removed later.

 

I don’t allow mistakes like that if I can help it.

 

“Where do you go to school, Landon?,” I asked. Elga pressed the hand flat. She
cleaned the finger and placed it next to where we wanted to attach it.

 

“Briars,” she said. “It’s toward the Royal manor.”

 

“Never heard of it,” I said. That wasn’t unusual. I doubt that I knew any of the
schools in the city, except the Wake, and Buxby.

 

Omes was self-taught, and knew more about things than most with twice his age.

 

“It’s famous,” Landon said. “We won the Costume Parade for the city.”

 

“Costume Parade?,” I said. I checked the finger. We needed some organic workers
to sew things back on for us.

 

“Halloween,” Elga said. She shook her head.

 

“Halloween?” I rubbed an ear. “The parade through the city. You won that?”

 

“We were the first in line,” said Landon.

 

Elga got a syringe gun and loaded two vials with Cremadixonal. The green chemical
bubbled in the glass containers.

 

She injected the stump with one vial. She reloaded and injected the severed part of
the finger. She stepped back as flesh and muscle grew wildly from the stumps.

 

I directed the parts to join together. Once they were connected, I urged the parts
to shrink to the proper length. The excess formed a large knot where the two met. I
directed Elga where to excise the knot while making sure the joining ran smooth
as I could. She threw the extra in the miniature incinerator. I made sure that the
chemical didn’t spread, then used the hand to sweat it out of her system. Elga
swabbed the hand to clean it.

 

“All right,” I said. I took some of the control blocks out of the way. “I want you to
move your hand.”

 

The fingers twitched as I watched. Slowly, the hand balled up into a fist. She made
several elaborate gestures with the fingers, including the severed one. I nodded. It
looked like the operation was a success.

 

“We’re going to take a look at your eye, Landon,” I said. “The feeling is going to
return to your hand over the next few days. I have some nerve blocks in that keep the
pain to a minimum as it returns to normal.”

 

“I understand, Doctor Cat,” she said.

 

“I want you to close your good eye until I’m done,” I said. “I don’t want you to
worry. Elga and I have looked at eyes a lot.”

 

Elga took a pair of scissors and cut the bandage away. The eye socket was empty.
The lid drooped down over the open hole in her face. I examined it and felt that
maybe the eye had been pulled out.

 

The eye was ruined if it had been treated as rough as the wound looked.

 

We could put an artificial eye in the socket. It would be up to Landon what she
wanted to do.

 

“Give us a minute, Landon,” I said. “There’s nothing we can do for your eye at the
moment. We can try to insert an artificial one to replace the one you lost. I would
need time to get ready if you want to do that.”

 

“Could I have it a different color than my real eye?,” she asked.

 

“I guess,” I said. I glanced at Elga. She shrugged. “I think I can get a selection for
you.”

 

“That would be great, Doctor Cat,” said Landon.

 

“Until we figure out what we’re going to do, we’re going to cover the socket,” I said.
“It’s important that you leave the bandage alone. You don’t want to get the socket
infected and have something get into your brain.”

 

“I understand,” said Landon. “I’m not a baby.”

 

“I’ll try to remember that,” I said. “Humans always seem to be the worse babies about
everything in my experience. You’ve shown remarkable coolness so far.”

 

“Thank you,” Landon said.

 

Elga cleaned the socket. We fitted a plastic cover over the empty socket. Elga
wrapped a bandage around the girl’s head to keep the cover in place. She used tape
to secure the end.

 

“It’s kind of tight,” Landon complained.

 

“It has to be to stay in place,” I said. I adjusted her nerves under the wrapping. “How
does that feel?”

 

“It feels good,” she said.

 

“We should check you into the hospital for the next few days to monitor your finger
and eye,” I said. “If you don’t like that, I will arrange something until we can find
your parents, but you’re going to have to come back the next few days so I can check
on you and make sure the work turns out right.”

 

“I understand,” said Landon. “Ma and Da will probably want me to go to the
hospital.”

 

“That’s up to you,” I said. “I want you to close your eyes and get some sleep. I will
wake you when I have news.”

 

“I will be glad to come back here, Doctor Cat,” she said. “You’re nice, and fluffy.”

 

Elga smiled as the little girl snored on the examination bed.

 

“Obviously she doesn’t know the real you in all of its egotistical glory,” Elga said.

 

“I’m not egotistical,” I said. “I am exactly right in every way.”

 

“If you say so,” said Elga. “What happened to this girl?”

 

“Someone took her,” I said. “We found her and her keeper. But someone has engaged
in some forbidden research.”

 

“Is that why they mutilated her?,” asked Elga. She started cleaning up the
examination room.

 

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’m going to find out.”

 

“I want you to stomp them down,” said Elga. “Whomever did this, I want them
erased.”

 

I looked at her and rubbed my ear. I had never heard Elga express anger like this. I
was a little taken aback. On the other hand, I did want to find who had constructed
the monstrosity Omes had frozen and give them a piece of my mind.

 

Ripping out their eyes would be good in my opinion.

 

Feeding them to the River Tam would be just as good in my opinion. It would be
a slow death of being eaten alive by the poisons in the water.

 

And I didn’t have a problem with that.

 

“I’m going to ask Constable Bob to stick here,” I said. “Omes and I will go back
to the scene of the crime and try to figure out what’s going on.”

 

“I’ll keep an eye on her until her parents are found,” Elga said.

 

“Make sure they know that we need to keep an eye on her, and she has to come back
to get checked on,” I said. “If I have to chase them down, I will be unhappy.”

 

“I will make that clear,” she said.

 

“All right,” I jumped down from the examination table. “Let me gather up my
sidekick, and we’ll go and take care of the rest of this problem.”

 

“I will get Constable Bob to relay any messages through Metropole until we have
everything sorted out,” said Elga.

 

She let me out of the room.

 

I found Omes sitting on a couch in the waiting room.
He had settled into his rest state. He couldn’t move forward so he had shut everything
down until he could start moving again.

 

I feel that was a cat-like trait that he had picked up from me.

 

I jumped on the couch and swatted his face to get his attention. He looked down at
me.

 

“We need to go back to the Quarter and finish what we started,” I said.

 

“The monster?,” asked Omes.

 

“His creator has to be put down,” I said.

 

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After making sure Constable Bob would help Elga with the parents if he could locate
them, Omes and I took a cab back to the Industrial Quarter. It only took a few minutes
to get through the line of blue coats and find Griggs and Hierath examining our catch.

Neither looked happy with the thing that walked like a man.

 

“We’re going to have to unfreeze him,” said Hierath. “We have questions to ask.”

 

“I do too,” I said. “I would like to know where he got the extra nervous systems, and
the back up brain matter.”

 

“Somebody worked on this guy?,” said Hierath. “We’ll need to track that doctor
down. We can’t have rogue super soldiers out there.”

 

“Instead of starting with this guy,” Omes said. “Let’s start with the door I locked
down to hold him up. Maybe we’ll find something there we can use before we try to
deal with the composite.”

 

“All right,” said Hierath. “If he’s strong enough, he’ll be able to break manacles. We
might have to bring up specialized restraints.”

 

Omes led the way back into the wall. He paused when he reached the door he had
locked down. He unfroze it and worked the pad and lever. He stepped inside and
pushed a switch.

 

“It should be safe, but don’t touch anything,” Omes said. “He has an explosive device
somewhere in this room. We don’t want to trigger it by accident.”

 

I stepped inside the room. Vats for cloning were wired together. An operating theater
with screens for finetuning cuts rested at one end of the room. Body parts floated in
tanks with monitors showing their viability. I paused at one.

 

“Griggs, call my office.” I closed on one of the tanks. “Tell Elga that we found
Landon’s missing eye.”

 

“Portable screen from the command center,” said Hierath. “If the place is trapped,
the screens might set it off.”

 

“What did he want with her eye?,” I asked myself. I looked at the rest of the parts.
None of them were the same.

 

“Why did he deliver a part to that old man and start this?” I looked around the organ
factory. “What are we missing here?”

 

“I think he had a conflict of interest,” said Omes. He held a pad in his hand. “It looks
like he was fighting with himself.”

 

“So the brains aren’t getting along,” said Hierath. “One of them decided that the little
girl’s finger was better off given back to someone close to her. The other two, or at
least one of them wanted to keep her.”

 

“They wanted to keep her eye at least,” I said. “I wonder if they would have slowly
taken her apart for parts.”

 

“We need to have this room swept,” said Hierath. “Then we need to break open these
screens to see what’s on them.”

 

“I need to get this eye out of this tank and get it back to my office,” I said. “I can put
it back in Landon’s head today.”

 

“We’re going to have to gather information and make sure this place is safe first,
Doctor,” said Hierath. “We won’t blow up the girl’s eye when we follow procedure
and can give it to her later.”

 

I conceded the point. I didn’t like it. I lashed my tail and told myself to be patient.
Wrecking the place wouldn’t do Landon any good.

 

“Witsend,” said Omes. “Let’s go for a walk. We’re in the way here.”

 

He crossed the lab to another door on the other side of the room. He opened it and
locked it open before stepping out in the hall beyond. I followed him quietly.

 

“I think we should go this way,” Omes said. He adjusted his hat before walking down
the corridor.

 

“Where are we going?,” I asked.

 

“Away from a potential disaster,” Omes said. “If we’re not around, then we can’t
be found at fault because we didn’t know where the bombs were.”

 

“What’s the real reason?,” I asked.

 

“Our monster had a couple of visitors,” said Omes. “I’m tracking one of them down.”

 

“Right,” I said. “It will be a pleasure to find someone I can ask to explain
everything.”

 

“It seems obvious, doesn’t it?,” Omes said. He walked along the corridors. “Someone
built a lab to gather material and they created a door man to carry out their plans.
They let him do what he wants as long as he doesn’t mess anything up. He gives
them the clone material they want to do whatever it is they want to do now.”

 

“I assume the lab is built into the wall to avoid detection,” I said as I walked behind
him.

 

“They weren’t going to keep it on the books,” said Omes. “Just creating the door man
is enough to get someone exiled to Donegal Island. Everyone knows that.”

 

“So we can expect a fight if we catch up with them,” I said. “I’m surprisingly good
with that.”

 

“I hate to be the one to reverse our roles,” said Omes. “But don’t do anything you’ll
regret.”

 

“I won’t,” I said. I would never regret causing blindness in a target so I could work
on them with my skills.

 

“Let me rephrase,” said Omes. “Don’t do anything I’ll regret.”

 

I considered that a little more. I didn’t want to promise anything I didn’t plan to
honor. You didn’t give your word and then take it back when it was convenient for
you.

 

“Elga is not happy with what happened,” I said. “I agree with her assessment. No one
gets to walk away from this.”

 

“You can’t kill them,” Omes said.

 

“Yes, I can,” I said back. And I would have fun doing it.

 

“You shouldn’t kill them when you can turn them in and let the courts decide what’s
right,” Omes said.

 

“The courts will never be able to make this right,” I said.

 

“They’ll try,” said Omes. “And we should too.”

 

I fell silent. Omes was right. Murder was still murder. Just because it would make me
feel better didn’t make it right.

 

Making me feel better was better than being right in my opinion.

 

He paused at a service ladder leading up. He looked down the nearest cross tunnel.

 

“They went up this,” he said. He pointed up the ladder. “I’m going to go up and look
around. Wait here.”

 

“Wait here for what?,” I asked. I rubbed my ear before looking around.

 

“For me coming down the ladder and needing to be caught,” Omes said. He started
up the ladder.

 

How was I going to catch him? I looked up the ladder. Should I trace my way back
to the Metropole contingent? Should I continue down and hope to find an elevator
or stairwell? Where did the ladder go?

 

I decided to wait. There was nothing else I could do. If Omes was hurt, I would try
to fix as much as I could.

 

Hands would be so useful in this situation. I couldn’t open any of the secret doors
without Omes. I was stuck until someone showed me a way out of this mire onto dry
land.

 

Omes returned after a few minutes. He wore a thoughtful expression as he dropped
to the floor.

 

“This ladder goes up to the top of the wall,” he said. “There are scorch marks so
I am going to say some kind of flying machine like the slingshot is in effect.”

 

“Someone would have seen it,” I said. “Something that fast would rattle all the glass
in all the buildings.”

 

“Until we learn how to fly, we’re at a dead end,” said Omes. “It’s doubtful they’ll
come back with all the blue coats running around.”

 

“So all we have left is the monster?,” I said. “He won’t tell us anything.”

 

“He doesn’t have to if we can get him to tell us what’s behind all this.” Omes started
back the way we came. “Otherwise, I can maybe trace his steps from he was worked
on to see if I can track down his doctors.”

 

“You can track him from before the experiment?,” I asked. That didn’t seem possible.

 

“He’s been all over the Quarter since but there’s a chance I can figure out who
he was, and why he was picked,” Omes said, as he walked ahead of me.

 

“So he might have been put in as a caretaker because something about the operation
has rendered him loyal and incoherent,” I said.

 

“Arguing with yourself with three different voices does fit the incoherent part,” Omes
said. “I don’t know how loyal any of them really are.”

 

“So giving the finger to a stranger might have been one of them trying to pay the
organization back,” I said. I liked the reasoning, but there was no way to prove it.

 

“We can’t count on him to cooperate,” said Omes. “But we might be able to strap him
down in the operating theater and see how much of a threat that is to him.”

 

“We might be able to take him apart with the right tools,” I said.

 

“If he answers our questions, that will get us something to follow up on to find out
what is really going on.” Omes paused at the door leading into the secret lab. “At the
very least we can open his screen and see whom he’s been talking to.”

 

“I promised Elga we would trace this to the end of the line,” I said.

 

“We will,” said Omes.

 

We walked into the lab. A dog had been called down to sniff around. He looked up
when he saw me.

 

“Cat,” he growled.

 

“Dog,” I said. I didn’t put any feeling into it. “Find anything?”

“Some,” said the police dog. “The main one was on the vats. I figure they planned to
blow those first which would set fire to everything.”

 

“Good job,” I said. “Find anymore?”

 

“I’m doing my second walkaround, but I think I got them all,” said the sniffer.

 

“Did you find anything attached to the screens?,” Omes asked.

 

“No, sir,” said the police dog.

 

“I’ll need you as a witness, Constable,” said Omes.

 

He sat down at the screen. He pressed the power button. Nothing exploded. He waited
for the password to appear and then he pressed in the letters and numbers required.

He started looking for anything he could use. I jumped on the desk and looked with
him. The dog stood so he could see things.

 

“Looks like they have more than one lab,” Omes said.

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7

I looked at the files he had opened. I thought about the inventory they reported. It
looked like an organ running operation to me.

 

It didn’t explain the composite. They were just as illegal as clones. Why create one
when you can hire a normal person to do the job for you. Even a dog will guard a
place if you ask it.

 

Cats don’t.

 

“How do you know there is more than one of these places?,” asked the guard dog.

 

“These files speak of deliveries to other sites,” said Omes. “This file is a list of what
they wanted, what they didn’t want, and the amount of silver and gold they got either
way.”

 

“The body parts business must be good,” said the dog.

 

“Who owns the places?,” I asked. I had promised Elga to stamp this out. I was even
more inclined now that I knew that things were a business, and not some random
monster on the hoof.

 

“A company called Wisteria Flowers.” Omes pointed at the name on several of the
receipts. “I don’t know who the owner is.”

 

“I know how to find out,” I said. “Freeze this, and give me the call.”

 

He did so, moving back to give me access to the screen. I pressed in the number I
wanted. The owner had the highest office in the Quarter. If she didn’t know what I
wanted to know then nobody did.

 

“Hello,” said the Duchess of Alsance. She smiled when she saw it was me calling.

“Dr. Witsend? How are you?”

 

“I’m fine, Your Grace,” I said. “I need to know who owns Wisteria Flowers, and I
need to know where they are right now.”

 

“Wisteria Flowers?,” said the Duchess. “Hold on, Doctor.”

 

I rubbed an ear as I waited. Patience and ruthlessness were the cat’s birthrights, and
I had both more than most cats.

 

“The owner is a Raymond Excelsior,” said the Duchess. “He owns three, or four,
company lines in parallel to Wisteria Flowers. I don’t know where he is right now.
This is his picture.”

 

I blinked at the picture. We already had Mr. Excelsior in our grasp. The thought that
he had made a composite of himself was unsettling.

 

“Do you wish to tell me what this is about?,” asked the Duchess.

“Mr. Excelsior seems to have engaged in a little organ farming, Your Grace,” said

Omes. “And he has done some things to himself. Inspector Hierath and Sergeant
Griggs are running things down here. I’ll ask them to write you a report.”

 

“That will be very good, Master Omes,” said the Duchess. “Constable?”

 

“Aye, Constable Louis Costello, third grade. Regiment Eight Two, Squad Six Two
Six,” said the dog. His ears were forward as he leaned into the screen.

 

“Don’t let these two get into trouble until everything is settled,” said the Duchess.

 

“Aye, Your Grace,” said Costello. “I will follow them around like they were prize
sheep back home on the farm.”

 

“Thank you, Constable,” said the Duchess. She cut the connection.

 

“We don’t need a watch dog,” Omes said.

 

“Nor do we want one,” I said.

 

Constable Costello grinned with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

 

“It isn’t about what you want, or need,” said Costello. “You’re my sheep now, and I
have been charged with watching you until we’re ready to hand this off to a
prosecutor.”

 

“What do we know?,” said Hierath.

 

“I have to make another phone call,” I said. “Tell him what we know, Omes.”

 

I dialed the office number. Elga answered after two rings. She nodded when she saw
it was me.

 

“We found Landon’s eye,” I said. “I need to find a way to transport it to you.”

 

“She’s still asleep,” Elga reported. “I think Constable Geary is still trying to find her
parents.”

 

“Geary?,” I said. “Oh. Constable Bob. Tell him to call Wisteria Flowers and see if
they work there.”

 

“Why there?,” she asked.

 

“It’s just a hunch,” I said. “They own the lab. Maybe they targeted their people.”

 

“I’ll tell him,” Elga said. She cut the connection.

 

I turned on the desk. Elga wouldn’t let Landon leave now that we knew where her eye
was, and we had a chance to put it back in her head. How did I get it from the wall to
my office? And how did I keep my promise?

 

I looked at Omes, then the dog. A plan formed in my mind, but I realized I couldn’t
go through with it because I would have to put the eye in. I couldn’t just hand my
responsibility over to Elga.

 

I decided that I had to deal with the eye. That meant taking the organ out of the tank
and putting it in a chest. Then I needed to get it to my office which required transport.

Once I had all these together and had the eye in Landon’s head, I had to make sure
she could see out of it. That would be the real challenge.

 

I looked around the lab. I spotted a chest. I looked around for ice. I didn’t see any.
That meant I needed Omes again.

 

“The chest, Omes.” I jumped down from the desk and jumped on the counter. I batted
the chest to him. “We have to take that eye out and freeze it.”

 

“That’s evidence,” said Costello.

 

“You get in my way,” I said. “I will use your tongue to scrub the street until it’s gone.
Got me?”

 

“The Duchess did give us carte blanche,” said Omes. “You might not want to get
involved in this.”

 

“Spoon,” I said.

 

“Evidence,” said the dog.

 

“Go to sleep,” I said.

 

The dog fell and started snoring. His feet kicked in his sleep.

 

“You have just committed a crime,” said Omes.

 

“Spoon,” I said. I couldn’t help my ears turning in attack position. “Now.”

 

“All right,” said Omes. “Don’t be so pushy. I don’t want to drop the eye.”

 

He scooped the eye out of the preservative. His gauntlet froze the eyeball so it
wouldn’t rot while we were transporting it. Omes put the eye in the container. He
used a hand towel to pad it so it wouldn’t roll around while we were in motion.

 

“All right,” I said. “Seal it so we can take it back to the office.”

 

Omes used tape to close the top of the chest so it wouldn’t open. He looked around.
The Metropole had the frozen Excelsior in the operating theater. Hierath and several
of his people were at the screen. I knew those officers would be trying to suss out
where the other two labs were located.

 

There was nothing I could do about that. We already had the criminal. We had
enough evidence other than the eye for a conviction. We didn’t need to stay around.

And Landon needed her eye more.

 

When I was done with that, then we could question Excelsior about why he had set
up this operation. I led the way out of the lab. The dog could follow us to the office
when he woke up.

 

He probably would want to press charges. I didn’t have time to care about that.

When Landon was better, I would think about the charges I would have to face.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time I had done something criminal. Costello had the look of
someone who wouldn’t let what I had done drop. He was lucky I just put him to sleep.

 

I wasn’t always a doctor and some of the things I did during the war were worse than
anything I have ever done back home. Sleep was a lot better than what I have done.

 

“Let’s get a carriage,” I told Omes. “I want to keep moving on this before we’re
stopped.”

 

“Understood,” Omes said. “Let’s get this done before the dog wakes up.”

 

“I don’t want him barging in while I’m operating,” I said.

 

We walked out of the lab and out of the wall. I looked around for transport, but Omes
was already waving down a cab being pulled by clankers. The cab stopped, the driver
looking down from his seat.

 

“Where can I take you, sir?,” asked the driver.

 

I gave him the address of the office.

 

“All right then,” he said. He waited for us to get in the cab before he cracked the
reins. The clankers started walking with the tick tock sounds of their movements
accompanying the bumping of the wheels.

 

I watched the street as we went. I concentrated on the operation ahead. How good
would the eye be after being ripped from someone’s skull. My scan said it was
partially functional. I would have to tune it to make it work just as good as it had.

 

We got to the office as quickly as a pair of slow clankers could pull a cab. I was
already impatient halfway through the ride. Omes paid the driver and then we walked
up to the office door. Constable Bob opened it for us.

 

“The inspector called,” he said. “He’s not happy with what you did to Lou.”

 

“I did it because he was getting in the way,” I said. “We’re trying to put a little girl’s
eye back in her head, not worrying about what was going on there. Omes can find all
that out whenever he wants.”

 

“Actually we handed over the owner of the company that ran the lab already,” said
Omes. “And I opened the files so they can look for the other labs that our guy had
built.”

 

“And I don’t like dogs getting in my way,” I said. “They’re not that bright.”

 

“Do what you got to do, but when that’s done, I have to take you in,” said Constable
Bob. “Assaulting a police officer is a serious charge.”

 

“All right,” I said. “Let’s make this quick.”

We walked into the office. Landon was still asleep on the bed. Elga sat at her side.
She stood when she saw us.

 

“All right,” I said. I jumped on the table. “We’re going to need a spray to keep the
eyeball fresh. I’m going to need a nerve grower to repair the nerves and help them
hook back to the brain. Omes, get ready to unfreeze the eyeball so I can take another
look at it.”

 

Elga loaded a spraygun as Omes opened the box. Elga pulled on gloves and picked
the eyeball up. Omes unfroze the organ. I checked it for damage. There were
additional things there. I rubbed an ear as I thought about what I had to do.

 

The first thing was to get rid of the material that didn’t belong before we preserved
the eyeball.

 

“Constable Bob,” I said. “You might want to call the Inspector and tell him the organs
in the tanks have been altered.”

 

“Altered how?,” the constable asked.

 

“Mr. Excelsior has added other DNA to this organ,” I said. I separated the strands out
and marked them.

 

“You might want to ask the Inspector to check if Excelsior sold any of the altered
organs to people,” Omes said.

 

Bob ran from the room.

 

“Elga, we’re going to need a syringe,” I said. “I have the joined DNA in a small
bubble. We’re going to have to pull it out without hurting the rest of the eyeball.”

 

“Right,” said Elga.

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8

The operation went well in my opinion. I made sure that Landon didn’t feel a thing
while we reattached the eye. Omes was in and out during the procedure.

 

We put a new bandage over her eye. I checked her vitals. Everything looked good.
Her eye would have to be checked when she woke up to see how much damage had
been left after what we had done.

 

I could maybe hand adjust her vision with enough input from her. It meant
maneuvering her optic nerves around until they worked.

 

The big part of it was done. The rest was finetuning that could be handled by any
competent doctor.

 

I decided to take my medicine before Constable Bob got into trouble for running
interference for what I did, and not taking me in. He seemed decent enough for a blue
coat.

 

Costello and Griggs waited in the waiting room with Omes. Constable Bob stood at
the counter. He looked like he had taken a tongue lashing already.

 

“Cat,” said Costello, teeth bared, ears back.

 

“Dog,” I said. I rubbed my ear as I sat down.

 

“You’re going to Donegal Island,” said Costello. The words were a growl.

 

“You’re going to sleep,” I said back. He fell over on his back, feet sticking straight
up in the air. He started kicking the air. Droll ran down the side of his mouth.

 

“It’s five years every time you do that,” said Griggs.

 

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I said. “I’ll be dead before my sentence is up the way I
am going.”

 

“Don’t put him asleep again,” said Griggs. “You’ve done good work so far, but don’t
throw it away because you’d rather be cantankerous and surly.”

 

“Those words have never applied to me,” I said.

 

Omes covered his face with his hand.

 

“Never,” he said in agreement with my statement.

 

“Be that as it may,” said Sergeant Griggs. “Quit putting my officer asleep because
you don’t like him.”

 

I looked her in the eye. The thought of putting her to sleep was foremost in my mind.
I decided not to because I didn’t have to do it.

 

“What was in the eye?,” Griggs asked.

 

“Random programming DNA,” I said. “A signal is sent. The DNA activates and
creates a random change in the subject. A secondary spread command might send it
to other cells to rewrite them for whatever the DNA wants to do.”

 

“What kind of signal?,” asked Griggs.

 

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Elga and I pulled the DNA out of the eyeball and stored
it in a dish until we can have it analyzed by an expert.”

 

“The next order of business is Excelsior,” said Griggs.

 

“I can unfreeze him any time you want, Sergeant,” Omes said.

 

“What’s the point of all this?,” asked Griggs. “Why go to all this trouble when you’re
making a pound of silver a minute with your legitimate business?”

 

“Depends on what the DNA does,” Omes said. “Depends on how extensive the
rewriting is.”

 

“It might destroy portions of the target, alter the target into something dangerous,
cause some otherwise unnatural reaction to start,” I said. “The pollution from the
Industrial Quarter causes living tumors in a victim. A variant could be made if the
person knew what he was doing.”

 

“There are too many possibilities,” said Griggs. “How do we stop this before it gets
worse?”

 

“Metropole has to find all of his customers, and they have to be brought to a
hospital,” I said. “A DNA test would have to be done.”

 

“The Inspector and a crew are going over the files,” said Griggs. “We still have to
question Excelsior. You’re going to have to unfreeze him so we can try to do that.”

 

“I’ll be glad to do that for you,” said Omes. He adjusted his hat.

 

“He’s a composite,” I said. “And his split personalities aren’t cooperating with each
other. You might be able to flip one against the other two.”

 

“Good point,” said Griggs. “Are you two in, or do you need an escort to headquarters
so you can be arraigned?”

 

“Headquarters,” we both said.

 

“We’ll even take the dog with us,” Omes said.

 

“No, we won’t,” I said. “We’ll take Bob. The dog can go back to the wall and figure
the rest of this out on his own.”

 

“Thank you,” said Bob. “What about the girl? I’m still waiting on a callback about
her parents.”

 

“We’ll wait with you,” Omes said. “I can catch up on my reading.”

 

“Someone has to make sure the girl is handed off to the proper assistance,” I said. “I
can wait to make sure that is taken care of before I’m taken away.”

 

“You two,” said Elga from the examination room. “Come here.”

 

Omes and I looked at each other.

 

“Right now,” said Elga.

 

We walked over to where my nurse stood in the door. Omes took off his hat and held
it in one hand. Elga glared down at us.

 

“What are you two doing?,” asked Elga.

 

“Nothing,” I said. “We are taking our medicine and going to jail.”

 

“Really?,” Elga said. “That is so unlike you.”

 

“I am humble and modest,” I said.

 

“You two know better than this,” she said. “I expect better behavior. Go find out what
the DNA is for and stop it.”

 

“Metropole doesn’t agree with our methods,” said Omes. “We are criminals.”

 

“Really?,” Elga said. “The DNA you found is not anything human. And it looks like
a virus. Do you two know what happens if it activates and begins to spread like a
virus?”

 

“There is a small chance that some of the population will transform into something
that isn’t human,” I said.

 

“And what do we not know?” Elga asked.

 

“We don’t know the vectors and how much time we have between activation,
incubation, or infection,” I said. “So we don’t how this will spread and how fast.”

 

“So what should you two be doing?,” Elga asked.

 

“We should looking for all the people Excelsior infected,” said Omes. “Metropole
can do that faster than us. They have the manpower and brains.”

 

“They don’t have your brains,” Elga said. “Use them. Figure this out. Stop it.”

 

“I guess we could talk to Excelsior,” Omes said. “That might give us something.”

 

“I would rather go to jail,” I said.

 

“Don’t make me shake you until the hairballs come up,” said Elga. “Stop this.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” I said.

 

“You know better than that,” said Elga. “I have my kids to look out for too.”

 

“All right,” I said. “Come on, Omes. Let’s figure this out.”

 

The dog jumped to his feet. He looked around. He centered on me.

 

“Cat!,” he shouted.

 

“Dog,” I said. “Go back to sleep.”

 

He fell over again. I thought I heard him whispering about giant bones.

 

“Don’t do that again,” Griggs said.

 

“No time,” I said. “There is a small possibility that Excelsior wants to start a
pandemic. If that happens, we can lose the city depending on how fast things spread.
We don’t have time for warrants, gathering of evidence, or anything like that. We
might  not have time with the illegal methods that Omes employs.

 

“What do you mean by lose the city?,” Constable Bob asked.

 

“We don’t know anything about the rogue DNA except it looks like a virus,” I said.
“Imagine something like wolf bark but instead of the person barking at the wrong
moment, everyone within the sound of his voice starts barking, and then everyone in
the sound of the second string starts barking, and so on. We might not be able to stop
the spread before most of the city is down in flames.”

 

“So what is our plan then?,” said Griggs.

 

“We don’t have one,” I said.

 

“We do have Excelsior,” Omes said. “That’s where I have to start looking. Metropole
will have to look for everyone he sold an organ to and round them up. Witsend and
I will talk to him and see if he will give us an antidote.”

 

“What do you two want out of this?,” asked Griggs.

 

“A pardon because we might have to commit some crimes to get what you need,”
said Omes. “And a free hand. We don’t need watchdogs.”

 

“Do you think you can crack this?,” Griggs asked.

 

“We already cracked most of it,” said Omes. “And Witsend fixed the girl so she can
use her hand, and see again.”

 

“Any luck with her parents?,” I asked.

 

“No,” said Constable Bob. “I checked city records for the girl and her parents. She
doesn’t go to the Briars from what I could find.”

 

“Then where does she go to school then?,” I asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Constable Bob said. “I called every school in the list. None have a
student named Landon.”

 

“There’s no school in the city with a Landon attending?,” Omes placed his hat on his
head. He went to the counter so he could get at the screen. He looked at the call list,
comparing it to the list of schools that Bob had on the screen. He concentrated on the
screen for a second.

 

“I don’t understand,” said Griggs.

 

“The girl said she attended the Briars,” Bob said. “I called over there to see if they
could get in touch with her parents. They denied she went to school there. I called
every school publicaly listed. None of them admitted that she went to school at their
facilities.”

 

“The Briars,” said Omes. He typed on the screen with his ungauntleted hand. He
smiled. “Someone wake up the dog. We’re committing a burglary.”

 

“Wait,” said Griggs.

 

“Free hand, Sergeant,” said Omes. “You can’t take that back now. You can stay here
and watch the girl. We’ll take Bob and the dog in your place.”

 

“We’ll just take Bob,” I said. “The dog can stay here too.”

 

“We might need cannon fodder,” Omes said.

 

“We’ll take the dog,” I said.

 

“What do you know?,” she asked.

 

“I know where the Briars is,” said Omes. “And I have an idea of what Excelsior is
trying to do.”

 

“You should go, Sarge,” said Bob. “I’ll stay on and let the Inspector know how things
are going.”

 

“Don’t let anyone take the girl until we get back, Bob,” I said. “There’s still a lot of
things we have to make sure of first.”

 

“I’ll keep an eye out, Doc,” said Constable Bob. He gave us a smile and a cheery
wave of a hand. “Have fun storming the castle.”

 

I batted Costello’s nose. He jumped up, facing the wrong way. Omes and I walked out
the front door.

 

“This way, Constable,” said Griggs. She stood by the opened door as we walked out
on the sidewalk.

 

“Another assault on an officer,” said Costello as he trotted out of the office.

 

“I got a pardon,” I said. “We’re saving the city now. Come along.”

 

“He got a pardon?,” said Costello. I looked back. He was looking up at Griggs. “He’s
the meanest cat I know.”

 

“I know,” said Griggs.

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9

The Briars turned out to be a tower sitting in the middle of the Quarter’s research
district. I noted that the engineers had cleared a wide space from the other towers
around it which was unusual, and the guards at the door which wasn’t that unusual,
but denoted a lack of community spirit.

 

Omes pushed his hat back as he marched up to the door. He hooked his thumbs into
his belt. He probably expected me to take the guards if it came to that.

 

The two men held sonic pulsers almost pointed at us. Their closed helmets probably
had targeting scopes built into the visors. They had twin nervous systems but the
secondary brain was smaller than a human’s.

 

“Composites,” I warned Griggs and the dog.

 

They went on high alert. I didn’t blame them. You had a suspect with two other brains
in his body. Then you had a tenuous connection to a business. Then you had two
more composites guarding the business. That was a lot of coincidence to swallow at
the same time.

 

The guards regarded our closing group. They had the tension of hunting animals. I
wondered what the second brain and nervous system belonged to before it was
implanted in them.

 

I thought some kind of predator at the very least.

 

“We’re here to see Excelsior,” Omes announced to the guard. “Is he here?”

 

“You are not allowed on the premises,” the guard on the left said. “Please leave or we
will be forced to open fire.”

 

“You know you can’t keep us out,” said Omes. “We’re here to seize the building.
We’re going to require you to put down your weapons and stand out of the way
until our main force gets here.”

 

“You will not be allowed to pass,” said the left guardian. “Please move away from
the door.”

 

“We have clearance from the Duchess of Alsance,” said Omes. “Do you really want
to find out what will happen when she learns you’re blocking an investigation?”

 

“It’s about to go in the pot,” said Costello. “I can smell it.”

 

He was right. Both guards were gearing up to attack. Their bodies had started
pumping hormones. Their eyes gave a squinting signal that I equated with raised
alertness. Hearts were beating with excitement for the hunt.

 

Some idiot had put dog brains in for their secondary nervous system. Next thing you
knew would happen is they would start barking as the other brain took over and they
attacked.

 

“Step aside,” I said. “This is your last warning.”

 

They started raising the sonic pulsers. I took control of right hand guard. He pulled
the trigger of his weapon while it was still pointed at the left hand guard. The man
went down.

 

Omes raised his gauntlet. The guard froze in place. He seemed amazed that he had
shot his friend four times with concentrated sound.

 

“We should go in now that we are committed,” said Griggs.

 

“We’re going to need you two to stay behind us and out of the way,” said Omes. “We
don’t want you to get hurt, and you’re not armed.”

 

“I’m armed now,” said Griggs. She picked up the sonic pulser dropped by the shot
guard. “We’re in this together. Let’s go in before they try to come at us while we’re
out in the open.”

 

Omes searched the senior guard and pulled a lanyard with a key from the man. He
went to the door. He touched the buttons on a keypad in the frame and the metal
doors slid out of the way.

 

A checkpoint barred the way into the building. I twitched my tail at that. First, you
had to get pass the two guards on the door, then you had to submit to a search before
you could enter the lobby. Guards on the other side of the checkpoint pointed sonic
pulsers at us. I told one to shoot the other three before all four could open fire on us.

The ensuing crossfire allowed Griggs and Omes to clear the way for us with their
weapons. I jogged forward and took cover under the examining machine that
photographed the objects submitted to its scrutiny.

 

Costello flopped down beside me. His ears swivelled as he listened to the open space.
His eyes looked a little wild to me.

 

“More are coming from the elevator,” he said. He pointed a paw at the doors on the
other side of the lobby.

 

Griggs fired the sonic pulser she had stolen into the doors until the battery depleted
its charge. I don’t know what she expected to happen, but a crash rewarded her
efforts. She dropped the pulser and picked up a rifle one of the inner guards had
dropped.

 

“We should head for the stairs,” said Omes. He started across the lobby. “We should
avoid the rest of the elevator bank for the moment.”

 

I followed at his heels, sensing the DNA out in front of me. I didn’t like that the
DNA matched to each other with variants. I expected that sort of thing with close
members of a family.

 

Had Excelsior hired only his relatives to work for him?

 

“Some more are coming down the steps,” said Costello.

 

Griggs stepped inside the stairwell. She fired up at the landings above us. She
stepped out before the return fire could fall on her.

 

“Open the door for me, Omes,” I said. “I’ll clear the way for us. Where are we
supposed to be going?”

 

“We want a floor somewhere toward the top so we can use the screens to search for
what we need,” said Omes. “We need to get enough proof that Landon was created
here.”

 

“Understood,” I said. And I did understand the connection that Omes had made
between the Briars and Landon. If she was a clone, that would explain the DNA in
the eyeball, but not why her finger had been given to a passerby.

 

Maybe a file explained that too.

 

A cloning operation explained everything really.

 

And cloning and the composites we had seen were illegal. A trip to Donegal Island
was guaranteed if you were caught. The Crown cared not the reason. The wounds
from the war were still too fresh to allow for the scientific process to proceed, and
some people should not be allowed a chance to create their idea of a perfect weapon.

 

I agreed with the sentiment. I had killed too many such artificial monsters in defense
of the realm and my fellow doctors and nurses.

 

The only good thing to come out of the war was my friendship with Doctor Karen,
and meeting Omes. Everything else had been horrible in my opinion.

 

“Watch my back,” I said.

 

I didn’t want to clear part of the stairwell and have a door open to let the defenders
get behind us, or ambush us on a landing.

 

I let my sense range out and show me where the human/dog hybrids were above
me. Some probably stood out of my detection range. I decided to worry about
them later. The ones closer to me had to go in any case before I could reach a point
to take care of any hypothetical reserve force.

 

I started by grabbing the farthest one in my range and triggering his finger to start
blasting at his friends. I was able to clear part of the stairwell before someone put him
down. I didn’t see who did it, so I moved that responsibility to a force above where
I could reach.

 

I was able to do that twice more before they started moving out of my reach. That
allowed them to form a cordon above where I could attack by grabbing their nerves,
but they could still shoot down at us.

 

I needed something with a better reach. Luckily, I had Sergeant Griggs within contact
range.

 

“Sergeant, I have forced them to move up above the fourth floor,” I said. “I’m going
to need you to come in and take cover where I can use your stolen firearm.”

 

All three of my companions came into the stairwell. Omes closed the door and froze
the mechanisms in place. Anyone coming in after us would have to take the frame
apart to get to us.

 

I approved of the idea even though it meant we had to clear out the rats now because
we couldn’t just leave through the frozen door.

 

It also meant that no one could escape unless they climbed down the elevator shaft
and forced the doors open after what Griggs had done in the lobby, or used a window
to get out to the exterior of the building and climb down to the ground.

 

I didn’t plan to let them fight their way down and overrun us.

 

I guided Griggs’s aim and fired on the upper position. That forced them back even
further. Our combined talents dropped more of them as they shot down at us. They
didn’t have a better picture than me, but I had years of experience and the fringes
of their webs to shoot at with Griggs as my partner.

 

“I’m almost out of charge,” reported Griggs after we fired another volley upstairs.

 

“We need to climb the stairs,” said Omes. “I’ll provide cover and we’ll head on the
first floor. Maybe that will encourage them to come down and try to hunt us.”

 

“If we can find a screen, we can call for Armed Forces to help us out,” said Griggs.

 

“Omes and I will provide cover,” I said. “You two try the door. There might be
resistance on the floor. Be ready for it. Omes and I will be right behind you.”

 

“When?,” asked Griggs. She leaned the pulser against the concrete and steel steps.

“On three,” I said.

 

“You’ll have to go first, ma’am,” said Costello. “I don’t have hands to open the door.”

 

“You’re also faster than me,” said Griggs. “I understand.”

 

I did too. Costello could easily get to the door before any of the rest of us. But not
being able to open the door meant he could be under constant fire while waiting on
Griggs to get to the door.

 

And humans were so mentally slow sometimes.

 

“Ready,” Omes said. “Remember to exit out of the stairwell, and clear the floor. We’ll
be right behind you.”

 

Griggs and Costello acknowledged the plan, getting ready to sprint to the door.

 

Omes gave them a count and then we fired his gauntlet up the shaft. There was no
tracking the invisible beams in flight, but we were rewarded with the thump of falling
bodies from overhead. Griggs ran to the door and pushed it open. Costello grabbed
a weapon that had fallen on the landing with his mouth as he followed. She took the
weapon as they moved into the floor beyond the door. We were right behind, Omes
firing as we went. We dove into the open door as counter fire started punching the
wall and floor around us. The door shut behind us as we looked at our new refuge
and tried to think of a way out of the mess we were in.

 

“Office area,” said Omes. “Good. That gives us plenty of cover if they come down to
get us.”

 

“Screens, too,” said Griggs. She menaced the office workers who were looking at us
from their small spaces. “We need to round them up and get them out of the way.”

 

“Why do they smell alike?,” asked Costello. He looked around with ears forward.

 

Anyone even looking like they were going for a weapon would run into a furry
buzzsaw trying to take off their limbs.

 

“Clones,” I said. “They are all clones.”

 

Costello nodded with a flicker of his ears. His canine senses and my own lifeweb
were giving the two of us the same thing. The office workers we could see were
identical except for choice of hairstyle and clothing, and new scars since birth.

 

“Right now they are in the way and might possibly be shot if they stay where they
are,” said Griggs.

 

“Oy, you lot,” bellowed Costello. “Move to the rear of this space. Get going. We’re
expecting a lot of shooting here. Move it, or lose it.”

 

“Help me with this portable wall, Sergeant,” said Omes. “It will provide us with some
protection for when they do come down to deal with us.”

 

They quickly took the shells that formed the borders of the workers’ individual spaces
and turned that into a wall a few feet in from the door. Omes froze each piece.
Anything hitting those pieces would bounce off.

 

I contented myself with putting the workers to sleep so they wouldn’t get in the way.

The last thing we needed was an insurgency while we readied to repel security.

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