With everyone away on their flights to
wherever and the paperwork done to take collection of the crate from Japan,
Nick went with Pete Miller and Frank Malone to make an inspection of the
charter jet.
“He a forensic specialist?” Frank
inquired softly.
“He’s some kinda specialist,” Pete replied. “He’s good people, Frank.
You can trust him.”
Nick climbed on board the jet and took
a cursory glance at the interior. It
wasn’t fitted out for passengers. This
was express freight only. Where seats
should’ve been, there were steel poles and cargo nets strung between them, with
a narrow aisle left which led to the flight deck.
“You know which of these compartments
held the crate?” he asked.
Frank nodded. “It was that one. Middle, front section, starboard side. It was secured with straps.”
“Was there anything else on the
manifest?” Nick queried, glancing at him.
“A few things, yeah.”
“Can I see it?” Nick asked.
“What are you thinking?” Pete frowned.
Nick gestured with his head for Pete
to come closer. “One thing I have
learned, doing what I do, is that, half the time, there’s a perfectly normal
explanation. I’m thinking, maybe,
biohazard.”
“I’ve seen the manifest,” Pete
replied. “Nothing toxic on board.”
“Would it be declared ..?” Nick
pointed out. “They have terrorists in
Japan, Pete. Remember that nerve gas
attack on the Tokyo underground?”
Pete nodded slowly. “I’ll go over it again. An’ you check that crate before you open
it.”
“That’s another thing I’ve learned
doing this job. Never take
chances.” He turned toward the flight
deck. “Okay, let me take a look at our
dead guys.”
Pete tagged along. “If it is biohazard .. shouldn’t we be in
those environmental suits?”
“It’s probably dissipated by now. If they’ve been dead at least six hours …
” Nick shook his head. “Biohazard is the logical cause of death but
it’d be a damn strange bug to kill someone an’ let ’em go on working.”
There was no door separating the
flight deck from the main fuselage, only a curtain.
“Another reason could be someone
stowed away,” he remarked and pulled the curtain aside. “Or maybe not.”
Whatever had killed the two men, they
had died in agony. Their faces were
twisted masks, their hands claws on the controls. Even their bodies were contorted. A biohazard could have done it but there would have been other
signs – congealed blood at the mouth, nose, maybe the ears and eyes. These men were, on the surface,
unharmed. Their clothes weren’t torn or
even rumpled. One moment, they’d been
flying the plane, the next .. they were dead.
A lot of pain but nothing had outwardly attacked them.
“You called in the coroner yet?” Nick
asked. “Only I have a contact there –
Frances. I’ve worked with her
before. Mention my name an’ she’ll know
I’m in the loop.”
Pete nodded. “Okay. You think your
sword somehow did this?”
“I can’t answer that, not yet. But I do have to check it thoroughly so I’ll
keep you posted if I find anything.”
Nick took one last look at the bodies.
“Can you let us have some photographs?
I got the sword to work on but Derek’s free. He’d be glad to help you out from this end. With luck, we’ll meet somewhere in the
middle.”
Pete nodded again. “Call him.”
*****
Derek was reading the newspaper when
the phone rang. He regarded it with
narrowed eyes. Yesterday, it hadn’t
seem to stop ringing. Today was
starting the same.
“Derek Rayne – ”
“Derek, it’s Nick.”
He sat up slightly. “Yes, Nick.
Problem?”
“I’m not sure. Can you get to the airport? There’s something weird going on an’ Pete
Miller’s asked for your help.”
“I’d be delighted to assist. I’m on my way now.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
Derek paused only to tell Andrew he
should delay lunch for an hour until one thirty and then he left. It was a minimum two hour ride to the
airport south of San Francisco, longer if there was bad traffic, so Derek took
the helicopter. Like Nick, he was a
qualified pilot but he left the main flying to the younger man. Nick enjoyed it. Derek saw it only as a means of getting from A to B with the
minimum amount of fuss. Consequently,
thirty five minutes after Nick’s call, Derek was walking across the tarmac
toward the charter jet.
Pete Miller was standing beside the
steps, his shoulders hunched against a cool breeze blowing off the Bay.
“Morning,” he greeted as Derek came to
a halt. “I’ll keep it short. Two bodies.
Dead at least six hours but that’s a personal estimate so it could be
wrong. No one else on board. Possibility of a biohazard but we’re
checking that out an’ Nick has a heads up on that crate. Yet, despite being dead, these guys still
landed the plane, obeyed every instruction from the air traffic controllers, talked, and taxied it to a stop.”
“I can see why you’ve asked for
assistance,” Derek commented dryly.
“Uh huh. I have this sneaky suspicion that your sword is somehow
responsible. An’ how I’m ever gonna
write that in my report, I don't know.
Go take a look. Maybe you can
give me some alternatives.”
“Where’s Nick?” Derek asked.
Pete jerked a thumb over his
shoulder. “Still in there with the
stiffs.”
Derek climbed the steps and ducked
thru the doorway. As Nick had done, he
took a cursory glance around then went to the flight deck.
“You got here fast,” Nick
remarked. “You fly?”
“Curiosity got the better of me. It’s a cross I have to bear.” Nick moved out of the way so Derek could
examine the bodies. “Is there a chance
that Pete has the time of death wrong?”
“Sure. There is no way to
accurately determine time of death.
Every body has an individual timetable.
Rigor sets in so many hours after death has occurred but it’s different
each time. Unless there’s a witness,
it’s guesswork. Averages.”
Derek frowned as he bent toward the
pilot. “And they actually talked to the
controllers?”
“So Pete says. I’d like to hear what’s on the cockpit voice
recorder.”
“You have a task to do. But, if
it is the sword, we’ll be working on the same case. I’ll see what I can acquire for you.”
“Thanks, boss,” Nick grinned. “I’d better make a move. Frances is on her way.”
Derek nodded. “Be careful. If it is a biohazard, I don’t want to risk it getting loose in
the house.”
“Check. Although, by the time I’ve cleared Customs an’ driven back,
you’ll already be there.”
“I'll make a start on researching
other fabled, mythical weapons, ones which can .. do this to a man yet allow
him to continue imitating life.”
Nick nodded. “It’s a beginning. Catch
you later.”
Derek was left alone on the jet. The silence was eerie and Derek had to shake
himself to get rid of the sensation that he was being watched. He focused on why he was here. The skin on the men’s faces was taut, stretched,
as if they were becoming mummified. He
examined the visible, exposed skin for puncture marks and found none. It was a mystery.
Ten minutes later, Frances arrived and
Derek made room for her.
“Oh my … ” she breathed. She stared for a moment then glanced
round. “You want to be present at the
autopsy?”
“I think I would, yes.”
“Call by around six this evening. My advice is to eat later .. if you still
feel like it.”
Derek smiled. “I have a strong stomach. I developed it thru need.”
*****
It seemed very strange to be sitting
at a workstation doing routine investigations.
The years dropped away and Derek could almost hear his Precept’s voice
telling him to be thorough, to not miss anything. One small fact easily overlooked as not being worthy could be the
decisive one. The one to turn
everything around. The one which meant
the difference between life and death.
His first task was to set the search
going. His second was to contact the
Tokyo house for details on where the sword was found and in what
circumstances. While the computer searched
for references to old Japanese swords reputedly strengthened with incantations
and, possibly, curses, he called the Precept at the Tokyo house.
“Konnichi wa, Igurashi-san,” he began.
“And good day to you, Derek,” Tetsuo
Igurashi replied. “Has the artifact arrived safely?”
“It has arrived, yes. Nick is on his way back from the airport
with it, as we speak. There was,
however, an incident on the jet. I have
to ask you, Tetsuo, where did you find the sword and did anything unusual
happen when you found it?”
There was a very slight pause. If Derek hadn’t been expecting it and
listening for it, he would have dismissed it as purely natural thought.
“Can I ask you in turn what the
incident was?” Tetsuo said.
Derek smiled. “I asked first.”
The remark was met with studied, inscrutable
Oriental silence.
“Japan is a country with a very long
history,” Derek went on, his voice mild.
“That history, until fairly recently, was dominated by people armed with
swords. Therefore, finding an ancient
weapon would not be unusual in your land.
Something must have triggered the idea that it was a sword of myth and
legend.”
“Yes,” Tetsuo eventually
answered. “We found it deep in a grotto
at Ise. Until last year, that part of
the cave network where the blade was located had been inaccessible but a quake
opened up a narrow passage. There was
once a shrine at Ise to Amaterasu. When
we brought the blade out .. there were miracles, Derek. The lame who touched the sword could walk
again. The blind could see. Incurable diseases were cured. Naturally, we were startled, surprised, a
little suspicious. We believed the
blade was important – why had it been hidden in the grotto? – but the miracles
made us wonder if we hadn’t stumbled across something even more profound. In truth, we could have done the examination
and analysis here but we are too close to it to be completely impartial.”
“Hmm.
Interesting.”
Tetsuo waited patiently.
“The flight crew of the charter jet
were dead when the plane landed,” Derek informed him. “They had been dead for quite some time.”
“A stowaway on board? A thief
.. after my sword?”
“It’s a possibility, I suppose,” Derek
conceded. “However, if there is a thief
and this stowaway killed the crew .. he or she did it without touching
them. I saw them, Tetsuo. They looked like they died of fright and in
great pain.”
“What does Nick think?” Tetsuo
inquired.
“His first idea was a biohazard on the
aircraft. Something like that could
have been planted on board and timed to detonate hours later. He also considered the idea of a stowaway.”
“But you don’t agree with either of
those ideas.”
“I’m not sure yet what to believe,”
Derek admitted. “I’m going to observe
the autopsy on the two men later today.
What intrigues me is the alleged fact that, even though the men were
dead, they continued to fly the plane, obey every instruction, talk to the
controllers, land safely and taxi to the holding area.”
“The thief could have done that,”
Tetsuo pointed out.
“True, but the crew’s hands were claws
on the controls. They couldn’t have
been moved for someone else to sit there.
Plus, no one got off the aircraft once it was on the ground, and the sword was not stolen.”
“This is incredible … ”
“And, therefore, it is a matter for
the Legacy,” Derek concluded. “I’ll
keep you advised of our progress, or lack of it.”
“Thank you, Derek. I appreciate that. Sayonara.”
“Goodbye, Igurashi-san.”
Derek hung up. Well .. that had been informative. A sword which killed and cured. A sword both
blessed and cursed. Frowning, he returned
to the control room.
Twenty minutes later, Nick came in,
bearing the long wooden crate in both arms.
“Find anything?” he asked. It was his way of saying ‘hi there, I’m
back.’
“There are many legends of cursed
blades in Japan, a country well noted, of course, for its abundance of swords,”
Derek replied. “There is only one
problem. Unless the blade is marked, it
will be impossible to determine if it is mentioned in any particular
legend. The hilt is not a reliable
guide as they can be replaced.”
Derek followed him as Nick went to the
side area and put the crate on a table.
“There is one other thing I’ve learned.
The sword of Amaterasu, blade and hilt, is formed from one piece of
metal.”
“Should make it easy to identify,”
Nick remarked.
“Tetsuo told me that, when they
brought it out, miracles occurred. This
weapon has the ability to cure disease and heal infirmity.”
“Try telling that to the crew on the
jet,” Nick responded.
Derek frowned. “I know you were not present when the
aircraft was first opened but .. is it possible the cause of all this is
nothing more than a stowaway? Consider,
somehow, and I don’t have the answer yet, the crew died. It could have been a fast acting, fast
dispersing toxic agent administered by a stowaway who took precautions against
breathing or touching this substance.”
Nick was nodding.
“One of the bodies was then moved,
before stiffening of the joints prevented it.
The stowaway continued to fly the plane and talk to air traffic control,
brought it in to land and taxied it to the holding area. Then, having secured the aircraft, he or she
replaced the dead body at the controls and went back into hiding. When the coast was clear, he or she slipped
out and got away.”
“Good theory,” Nick agreed. “Works on a lotta levels.”
“But you don’t agree with it.”
“I’m not saying it’s wrong but .. what
was the motive? Someone wanting to get
a new start in the US, why come outta hiding an’ kill the crew? That only achieved attention. If it was a thief, why didn’t they steal the
sword? I checked with the Customs guys,
in case something else was stolen, by accident or on purpose, but everything on
the manifest was unloaded. So what was
the motive? Stowaways creep in, hide,
hope to get to their destination undiscovered, then, if they do, they fade into
the background. The cops, forensics,
airport security, not to mention us, have been swarming over that jet since the
door was first opened. It’s now under
guard in a hangar.”
“Could they have escaped before the
door was apparently first opened?” Derek suggested.
“Well, I guess that’s possible but
it’s a pretty busy area. There’s always
people around. Frank Malone told me
he’d questioned the people who were there when the plane rolled up and stopped,
an’ they said no one got out.”
“Hmm.” Derek regarded the crate.
“And that has not been
tampered with?”
“Not that I can see. It’s a pretty much standard shipping
crate. It isn’t a sealed container.”
“Then .. the chances are it is some
kind of spectral entity. It attached
itself to the sword, emerged thru the gaps in the crate, killed the crew, flew
the aircraft to San Francisco, then returned to the crate.”
“Which means it’s now in the house,”
Nick commented.
“Unless my theory is wrong,” Derek
agreed.
“Think I’ll put this in a sealed
container while things are running our way.”
“Good idea,” Derek nodded soberly.
*****
With the sword still inside the crate
which was now inside a locked, vacuum sealed container and the whole thing
locked in one of the labs, Nick and Derek drove back to the city morgue to
observe the autopsy on the two flight crew.
Pete Miller arrived just as they were crossing the parking lot and he
ran to catch up with them. He nodded a
greeting but his eyes looked tired and slightly bloodshot.
“I realize it’s early days but .. any
progress?” he inquired.
“We’ve tossed around a few theories,”
Nick replied.
“Uh huh. And ..?”
Nick glanced at Derek who nodded. “We think it could be a spectral entity.”
“Oh.
Of course. It couldn’t be something
easily explained, something I can talk about at a dinner party or in mixed
company. No, it has to be something
outta this world. Guess I should be
pleased in one way. Spectral entities
cannot be tracked down, arrested, charged, put on trial in a court of law, an’
then slammed in jail. Not so much
paperwork involved with spectral entities.
Makes my job a lot easier.”
Derek frowned.
“Look, I’m tired. It’s been a long day,” Pete muttered. “And, every time something like this
happens, I never know what to write in my report that doesn’t make me sound
like a raving lunatic. I have two dead
foreign nationals, Derek. Okay, they
died in international airspace somewhere over the middle of the Pacific ocean,
but they were found in my patch an’ I have the case to solve. Spectral entity, sure, it covers the bases
an’ fits all the facts, an’ my lieutenant is gonna say I’m either crazy or I’m
just not prepared to do my job an’ investigate this crime, that what I’m doing
is, basically, passing the buck.”
“We could be wrong,” Derek
offered. “Like you, we’re still
gathering the facts. That’s why, like
you, we’re here at the morgue.”
“Right.” Pete shook his head. “I’m
sorry, guys. I asked for your help cos
I am way outta my league, an’ now I’m being pissy about what I’m getting. For the record, I think you’re right. I think it is that damned sword.” He looked up. “What’ve you done with it?”
“It’s locked away in a specially
sealed container,” Nick replied. “If it
is contaminated with some kind of biohazard, I haven’t shown any symptoms
yet. And, if it is a spectral entity
and it’s attached to the sword, it can’t get out to hurt anyone else.”
“Or help them,” Derek added.
Pete’s eyebrows rose. “That’s an interesting take on the
situation.”
“Not really, merely a statement of
fact,” Derek replied. “The sword, when
it was recovered from a deep cavern hidden until last year when a quake opened
up a passage, cured people of disease and infirmity. I don’t suppose our associates in Tokyo exchanged it for another
sword so we must assume it is the same one.
Therefore, the weapon is both blessed and cursed.”
“By what?” Pete asked. “A spectral entity which sits on the fence?”
“It could take the form of a guardian
spirit. There are things in this world
who can judge the motives deep in the heart and take action accordingly.”
“So .. sick people deserve to be cured
and .. flight crews deserve to be wiped out?” Pete queried. “Excuse me but that’s just a little too picky for my tastes.”
Derek shrugged. “If you look at it rigidly, yes, it’s a
little extreme. But consider – the
flight crew was removing it from its native land. Maybe that was cause enough for the guardian to become defensive,
and, as Nick will tell you, a good defense is a strong offense.”
“Pete .. the voice recorder in the
cockpit would tell us a lot about what actually happened,” Nick pointed
out. “The plane didn’t crash so the FAA
has no reason to impound it or the voice recorder for investigation.”
Pete nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “Good idea, Nick. I’ll get on it later, after we watch this.”
“If you could find a way to get a copy
of the recording to us for analysis ..?” Nick went on.
“Shouldn’t the recording answer all
our questions?” Pete asked.
“Well, maybe, but I don’t really
suppose those two guys had time to explain what was happening. If you believe you’ll hear something like
‘oh no, what’s that? There’s a ghost on
board, it’s going to scare me to death’, I think you’re gonna be disappointed. What it can tell us is how fast it went
down.”
“Recordings sometimes have background
noise which can reveal some hidden truths,” Derek added. “Slow it down, a hiss can actually be
words. Speech. But you need specialist equipment to search
for those kinds of messages.”
“An’ you have this specialist
equipment,” Pete inferred.
“It’s why you asked for our help,”
Derek smiled. “Shall we go in?”
“Sure,” Pete agreed.
*****
Frances stripped off the gloves and
put them down. For a long moment, she
regarded the body she’d just examined.
Then she released a breath and pursed her lips.
“Right now, I can’t tell you what
killed these two men,” she admitted.
“The degree of rigor is extreme and it isn’t fading. Internal organs are all intact. There’s no evidence of trauma – no cuts,
stab wounds, puncture marks. I can say
they died more or less at the same time so whatever attacked them hit
simultaneously and fast. When I get the
tox screens back, it should tell us more.”
“But, right now, all you can really
say is that they died,” Pete commented.
She hesitated. “It is possible to die of fright. The positions of the hands, the expressions
on the faces .. does tend to lead me in that direction. But the heart wasn’t affected. Usually, in cases of severe shock, a cardiac
arrest is the cause of death. Not in
these cases. The nearest I can come to
an explanation is .. one moment they were alive, and, the next, everything in their
bodies switched off. The heart
stopped. The brain ceased to
function. There was no slow wind
down. It was instantaneous .. and that
isn’t possible.”
Frances shook her head. “Over to you .. an’ let me know what you
find out.”
“Will you let us have a copy of the
tox screen when it comes in?” Derek requested.
“Sure,” she nodded. “Unofficially, of course.”
“Of course,” he murmured.
They left the morgue and paused to
clear the smell of death and antiseptic from their noses.
“I should get going,” Pete sighed.
“You could come stay with us,” Derek
offered. “If we have the cause of these
deaths in secure isolation, your investigation runs parallel to our own. It would cut down on journey time. Nick will be leading the examination of the
sword. You and I can work together on
the supplementary investigation.”
“It does seem to be tied in,” Pete
agreed. “Okay. I accept.
I have to go back to the city to pack a bag an’ request the voice
recorder but I can drive over to the island later.”
“Here’s my card,” Nick said. “If it looks like you’re gonna be late, call
me. I’ll come pick you up in the
launch.”
“Thanks. And .. I’m sorry for earlier.”
“Accepted,” Derek smiled. “We’ll give you some tips on how to word
your report. We’re used to this. You are still fairly new.”
“For sure,” Pete sighed. “I get this weird feeling though that I’m
going to learn a lot in double quick time an’ that this is only the start of
the learning curve.” He winked. “See you later.”
Nick watched him head toward his
car. Pete’s step was weary, heavy with
responsibility.
“You think it’s a good idea, having
him stay at the house?” he asked as they turned toward their own vehicle.
“Pete Miller has proved himself to be
level headed in a dangerous situation,” Derek replied. “It is his police training and
experience. He is Rachel’s friend and
his background holds no concerns for us.
Peri has cleared him. And his ..
approach is refreshingly grounded.
Tetsuo believes he is too close to the subject to be impartial, and we
are so accustomed to thinking .. out of this world that someone like Pete
Miller keeps us aware of other, more normal, practical possibilities. He knows when he is out of his depth, Nick,
and not many are willing to admit that.
I have no unease about having him stay.”
“I’ll get Andrew to prepare a guestroom,”
Nick said.
*****
Pete caught the last ferry of the
evening and drove up to the gate. The
guard there nodded at him.
“You’re expected, Detective
Miller. Go on up.”
Pete felt a strange, warm
sensation. It wasn’t friendship, or a
sense of being welcome. It was knowing
that they trusted him.
“Thanks.” He continued up the drive to the house, parked by the garage,
took his bag and walked back to the front door. He rang the bell and waited.
After a few moments, Andrew opened the
door. “Good evening, Detective
Miller. Please, come in. A room has been prepared in the guest wing
for your stay. Unfortunately, you’re
too late for supper but I’ve left a cold compilation in the kitchen.”
So this was what it was like having a
butler. Pete felt he could get used to
this. “Thank you, Andrew.”
“You’re welcome, sir. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Kinda late leaving, aren’t you?”
“I’m staying over tonight, sir. I’ve missed the last ferry,” Andrew replied,
closing the door and locking it.
“That wasn’t because of me, was it?”
“No, sir,” Andrew lied.
Derek came downstairs. “Ah, you made it then. How was the crossing?”
“Little rough. It’s raining. Wind’s been picking up all day.”
“Thank you, Andrew,” Derek
nodded. “That’s all for tonight. Pete, if you’d like to come this way, I’ll
show you to your room.”
Pete climbed the stairs. “This is some place, Derek. You ever get lost?”
“Not recently. When I was a child, exploring this house was
the grandest adventure a boy could have.
I often got lost and my mother had to send out a search party. And the others, when they first came here,
had to learn their way around. They
have described it in various terms, the most endearing being a rat’s maze.”
“Must cost something to keep going.”
“I can afford it,” Derek smiled. “The last time you were here – ”
“During the visit of the TV guy.”
“Oh yes. I missed you on that occasion.
I was thinking of the time before.
But, last time, you were .. in the music room?”
Pete nodded. “I’ve never managed to get up the stairs before.”
“Well .. on this floor is the library,
the study, the lounge, the dining room.
And, up here,” Derek went on as he climbed the stairs, are the two wings
of bedrooms. Most of us live in this
wing – myself, Alex, Nick and Peri.
Rachel and Kat have rooms there.
The guest wing is this way.”
Derek led him along a passage and
stopped at the first door.
“Here you are. Close enough to the stairs that you
shouldn’t get lost too easily. I’ll
leave you to get settled for .. fifteen minutes, then take you down to the
lounge.”
“Where’s Andrew sleeping?” Pete asked,
striking a blow for the common working man.
“He has a room on the next floor up.”
“Servants’ quarters?”
“In the old days, yes. Now it is staff quarters .. and more like a
self contained apartment. Andrew is a
valued part of this household, Pete.
His contribution often goes beyond what we ask and he is always
compensated, and not only with money.”
Pete flushed a little. “It’s the cop in me. I have to poke into other people’s
business.”
“As do we, so I understand,” Derek
graciously responded.
Pete opened the door but didn’t
enter. “Has Nick made a start on the
sword yet?”
“He has begun. It will be a slow process. Until we know for sure there is no toxic
residue, we won’t open the container.”
“Smart move,” Pete commented.
“Fifteen minutes,” Derek smiled.
“Check.”
Pete went inside, closed the door and
groped for the light switch. He found a
room generously appointed, with a large comfortable bed, a sofa, a chair, a
bureau, and a closet, set of drawers, and two nightstands. So far, so good, he thought. A door opened into a bathroom. He checked the cabinet, looked behind the
shower curtain, tried the faucets, and flushed the toilet. He nodded.
All that was really lacking was a refrigerator and a mini-bar.
Quickly, he exchanged his rumpled
suit, shirt and tie for jeans, T-shirt and sweater. When the knock came on the door, he was ready.
“Derek said you’d be joining us in the
lounge,” Nick greeted.
“Yeah, that’s right. Nick .. you’re a pretty much average
guy. You ever get used to having
someone around to just wait on you?
Doesn’t it make you lazy?”
Nick laughed. “I’d like the chance. You gotta remember, this isn’t just a
house. The Luna Foundation is a
business. We work hard every day. Andrew takes care of the house for us. It isn’t as though we give him orders. There’s no room service here.”
They descended the stairs and turned
for the lounge.
“How much has this house seen?” Pete
asked quietly. “I mean, my first visit
.. I saw quite a lot which still makes me wake in a sweat.”
“Not as much as it could have. This place is still new.”
“New?”
“Few years. But it’s an exact copy of the old house. That one got saturated .. an’ we had to blow
it up.”
“You couldn’t call in the
exterminators?”
“Same thing,” Nick shrugged, gesturing
at a door.
Pete entered the lounge and blinked at
the size of it, then at the fabulous view.
The windows were spattered with rain and the city lights glowed on the
glass. His apartment in San Bruno
suddenly felt like a hole in the ground.
“I think Andrew’s left you something
to eat so I’ll go get it,” Nick remarked.
“What d’you wanna drink?
Beer? Coffee?”
“Beer sounds good.”
“Man after my own heart,” Nick
grinned.
Derek came in as Nick went out. “Settled?”
“I think I’ll sleep well tonight,”
Pete replied, “providing my number one suspect is securely locked away.”
“It is,” Derek confirmed.
“Tell me,” Pete began as he sat in the
chair by the fire, “how do these .. spectral entities come into being? They’re not ghosts, are they?”
Derek sat opposite him. “A ghost is a spectral entity but spectral
entities are not always ghosts.
Usually, they are created by powerful magical incantations and then
bound into service to an item, in this case a sword. Occasionally, they are created accidentally and kept alive by the
combined power of belief and energy from the soul.”
“Really. Give me an example,” Pete requested, leaning forward.
“We all like to believe we have a
guardian angel watching over us, keeping us from harm. We say something potentially dangerous,
inviting harm upon ourselves, and then we touch wood. If we believe strongly enough, we can create a spectral entity
whose job it is to watch over us. If we
touch wood when we say the words, and our belief is strong, the guardian may
reside in that wood. Wishing is a force
in itself. The saying be careful what
you wish for, it may come true, isn’t necessarily just a saying.”
Pete nodded. “I’ve often said there’s a patron saint of cops. Every time I survive a near miss … I can see how it could happen. But that isn’t what happened here, is it?”
“I don’t believe so,” Derek
replied. “If this is the sword of Amaterasu, its power was granted by a god. And gods can be notoriously fickle in their
favors.”
“Hence a sword that can kill and
cure,” Pete remarked.
Derek nodded. “We have to be very careful how we deal with
this thing. We have to persuade it that
we mean it no harm, even as we tell it that its days of glory are long since
over.”
“Never considered that. There again .. I have
real trouble getting my head around anything you do. It’s best, I’ve found, not to ask questions. I feel so much better if I just .. accept
things.”
“Often a very wise decision,” Derek
commented. “Let the experts deal with
their own area of expertise.”
*****
Pete Miller slept soundly that
night. He thought he might have been
disturbed by nightmares but there was something about being in this house with
these people which .. both caused nightmares and prevented them. He felt safe. He was with the experts and he trusted them more than they
trusted him. That knowledge, a
subconscious truth even if he didn’t actively consider it, meant that he slept
well. So well, in fact, that he rose
feeling better than he had in months.
He showered and dressed, keeping it casual for this stage of the
investigation, and went to find his breakfast.
He met Nick in the foyer as Nick came
in from his early morning run.
“Hi,” Nick greeted. “Sleep okay?”
“Like a baby. I feel really safe when I’m here.”
Nick nodded. “We got protection in place.
Nothing evil can get in.”
“Really ..? Then, how come I saw, right here in this foyer – ?”
“That didn’t come in from
outside. It was summoned from inside
the house.” Nick angled his head. “I don’t make it a habit to call up demons
in my spare time, not that I get that much spare time. Neither does Derek summon creatures best
left well alone. Not so sure about
Andrew but he hasn’t done it yet. That
only leaves you .. an’ I don’t think you know how.”
Pete grinned. “No, an’ I don’t wanna know either. So .. these protections, an’ I’m not gonna
ask what form they take cos I probably won’t understand the answer, are they a
one way deal?”
“Uh uh,” Nick said as he headed for
the stairs. “Evil can’t get in, but, if
it’s in here, it can’t get out. It’s
contained so we can deal with it.”
Pete nodded slowly.
“You want breakfast?” Nick asked.
“Sure.”
“Dining room. Upstairs.
I’ll show you.”
Pete tagged along behind the younger
man. “So .. this entity in the sword ..
it can’t get out of the house.”
Nick halted on the landing. “The current situation is that it can get
out of the crate, if it wants to, but it can’t get out of the container. If it did, by some chance, escape from that,
it can’t get out of the lab.”
“But, if, by some chance, it did? I just wanna be prepared.”
“It can’t get out of the house,” Nick
stated firmly. “Those protections are
rock solid. But it won’t even escape
from the container.”
“Even if this entity was given its
power by a god?” Pete queried. “Is the
Luna Foundation that mighty an organization that it can take on old gods with
complete impunity?”
Nick hesitated.
Pete nodded. “That’s what I figured.
So .. we could be in for some trouble then.”
Continue to Chapter
4 Return to Home