Chapter 13

San Francisco

 

 

          Andrew, of all people, insisted they have lunch before anyone touched the sword.  He pointed out that no one had eaten at all so far that day and they’d all exerted themselves.  Further exertion should be deferred until after they’d taken some time out.  Pete, of all people, agreed with him.

          “Don’t you wanna know what happened?” Nick frowned.

          “Sure but not at the risk of hurting someone.  Derek’s said he’d try.  That’s good enough for me.  I can wait till he’s ready,” Pete replied.  “Derek ..?”

          “Yes, Pete.”

          “Is it okay with you if I mention in my report that a psychic was hired?  I won’t give your name.”  Pete shrugged.  “It’d be a big help if you said yes.  My lieutenant doesn’t have a very high opinion of psychics.  If I put down that I used one to help determine the series of events, he won’t read much more after that.”

          “I have no objection,” Derek responded.

          “Sir,” Andrew insisted.  “Lunch.  Now.”

          They went to the dining room and enjoyed a bigger than usual midday meal.  In fact, they spent longer than usual eating it and relaxing a little.  Pete expanded on his altitude theory and they digressed into why it could be the explanation for the attack.  The entity suffered from motion sickness, or it would have preferred a passenger flight because the service was better.  It never quite sank to the level of laughing at their predicament because it was still very much in their minds.  An invisible killer in the house which could strike without warning wasn’t something easily forgotten, but the mood around the dining table was definitely lighter.

          Pete asked where Alex had gone, and why Nick hadn’t gone with his wife.

          “Well, we were supposed to go on vacation together but this came up an’ I decided it was more important.  Peri, in turn, decided she’d wait in Hawaii while I worked here,” Nick answered.  “She had business there too but it wasn’t much an’ she extended her stay.”

          “A sword was more important?  You must have the most understanding wife in the whole world,” Pete commented.

          “Believe me, Hawaii was payback.”

          “You wish you’d gone?”

          Nick thought about it.  “No.  If the sword had been just a sword, like it was meant to be, I’d have a few regrets but, as it isn’t .. no.  I’m glad I stayed.”  He shrugged.  “I’m glad too that Peri isn’t here.”

          “Wouldn’t she have been useful?” Pete queried.

          “Yeah, but, if she was here, it would mean Kat was here as well so I’m pleased they’re both safe.”

          “Probably having the time of their lives,” Pete agreed.  “So .. what’s Alex’s story?”

          “Alex has gone to Canada to get back to nature.”

          “Nurturing her inner child,” Nick grinned.

          “Not quite,” Derek smiled.  “Alex has an artistic side, a creative side which doesn’t get as much exposure as any of us would like.  She has gone to a community where that situation can be rectified.”

          “Tree hugging?” Pete queried.

          “Painting, sculpting, making jewelry, weaving, dyeing, and the potter’s wheel.”

          “Oh .. one of those vacations.  Like an adventure vacation but without the adventure.”  Pete finished his coffee.  “An’ Rachel, of course, is away working.”

          “Again, not quite, at least not on a Luna Foundation fieldtrip,” Derek commented.  “This is more her professional work.”

          “You mean .. she’s an amateur here?”

          “No, I don’t mean that,” Derek replied.  “I mean she is a board certified, state registered psychologist.  No one can qualify with a genuine certificate to hang on the wall to do this kind of work.  However, we are all professionals, all experienced in our own way, and we each bring those experiences and expertise into play in our work here on the island.”

          “Plus the pay in this job is lousy,” Nick added.

          “Most necessary jobs are poorly paid,” Pete opined.  “Cops, the military, the psychics.  I bet Rachel’s really glad she has another job outside.  What about you, Derek?  How’d you afford to keep this place going?”

          “If I said that I am independently wealthy, I don’t want you to imagine the Luna Foundation is my hobby.  It isn’t.”

          “No one in their right mind would do this work if they didn’t feel in their soul that they had to,” Nick remarked.  “But it helps coming into it with a big reserve in the bank.”

          “Did you?”

          “Are you kidding?  I got my Navy pension, a little in the way of savings but not much.  I married into money.”

          “Peri is rich,” Pete stated, but he sounded as if he didn’t believe himself.

          “Yes, she is,” Derek confirmed.

          “A hotel, couple of nightclubs, an’ a house on Nob Hill, plus her place in Tiburon,” Nick added.  “That’s just in San Francisco.”

          “Holy shit.”  Pete sat back.  “You’d never know it to look at her.”

          “She’s one smart lady,” Nick grinned.  “Don’t ever go into a battle of wits with her unless you’re very sure of your ground.”

          “Well,” Derek said, pushing back from the table, “if we’re all finished .. we have a job to do.”

          He led the way back to the library.  Andrew was sitting at the table and rose as they came in.

          “I haven’t touched it,” he said.  “I just didn’t want to leave it unguarded.  I know intruders would have a difficult task breaking in but .. it didn’t feel right to just .. ignore it.  Not this sword.”

          Derek nodded.  “Your diligence is appreciated, Andrew.  This weapon does deserve our respect and admiration.”

          “Yes, sir.”  Andrew inclined his head and left them alone.

          “He’s a good guy,” Pete remarked.  “Got his finger right on the pulse.”

          “And we’re grateful for that,” Derek said.  “It gives us one less thing to think about.”  He approached the weapon, taking several deep, cleansing breaths.  “I may get nothing from this sword, you understand.  It may choose to remain silent.”

          “My money’s on you, Derek,” Pete responded with quiet faith and a quick smile.

          Derek glanced at Nick.  “Are you ready?”

          “Go for it,” Nick nodded.

          Derek closed both hands into fists then opened them and laid them flat on the hilt and the blade.  He shut out the world, shut out Pete’s anxious expression, shut out Nick’s watchful presence, shut out the quiet gasp of shock.  His body stiffened.

          Pete looked around quickly.  “Shouldn’t we break him out of it?”

          “Stay with him!” Nick ordered and ran.

          Derek was staring at nothing, his entire body rigid.

          “How long does this last?” Pete called, unable to drag his gaze away.

          “Till it’s over,” Nick called back.  He sounded close but he wasn’t in the room.

          “C’mon, Derek, snap out of it.  It isn’t worth this, okay?  C’mon, guy, listen to me.  Come back.”

          Then Nick was in the room again.  Pete had no idea where he’d gone but he was glad the former SEAL had returned.

          “He’ll collapse soon after he comes round,” Nick commented, opening the first aid kit.  “We’ll have to work fast.”

          Derek was oblivious to this.  He gripped the sword with both hands.  Then, after what seemed like an agonizingly long wait, he blinked and his grip loosened.  Nick carefully took the sword away and put it on the table.  Pete was hovering behind, ready.

          Derek sucked in a breath and looked down at his hands, at the blood.  Then his eyes rolled up and his knees buckled.  Pete caught him as he collapsed and laid him on the floor.

          “Jeez .. why’d he do that?  I didn’t mean for him to do that, Nick!  I swear to God!”

          “I know.  I don’t suppose he realized he’d done it.  But he will.  Help me.”

          They cleaned the wounds, stitched where they could, put tape on the rest, then dressed Derek’s hands and hoped it would be enough.

          “Let’s get him to his room,” Nick muttered.

 

*****

 

          Derek’s eyes fluttered open an hour later and the first thing which came into focus was Nick’s face.

          “What happened?” he croaked, his throat dry.

          “Can you drink?” Nick asked.  “You need fluids.  I don’t think you hit an artery but you did lose a lot of blood.”

          Derek frowned as he allowed the younger man to help him up.  “Why?” he frowned, sipping the water Nick held to his lips.

          “You got one hell of a grip, you know that?  When you went rigid, your hands clenched around the sword.  The hand holding the hilt isn’t so bad but the other hand closed tight around the blade and that thing is sharp.  It’s a miracle you didn’t slice all your fingers right off.”

          Derek recalled the blood and looked then at his swathed hands.  “How long have I been unconscious?”

          “An hour or so.  Pete’s blaming himself.”

          “He shouldn’t.  I had to touch the blade, Nick.”

          “Did you see anything?”

          Derek nodded.  “I saw it all.”

          “Okay, you tell us later.  You need to rest up for a while.  You need fluids.”

          “Send Pete up here.  I’ll tell him what I can and then get some sleep.  You go check on the computer, see how the translation is coming along.  And check the house audio monitors.”

          Nick nodded.  “Okay.  I’m sorry you got hurt.  I’ve seen you go into these trances enough times.  I should’ve anticipated that.”

          “How could you have prevented it?  I had to touch the naked blade.  The entity isn’t in the hilt.  Padding the sword would have revealed nothing.  And these bandages look very professional.”

          “You’ll have scars.  Maybe reduced sensation an’ movement.  I’m not sure if you didn’t cut some ligaments.”

          “When Peri gets home, she’ll heal me,” Derek remarked with a tired smile.  “Go fetch Pete.  He needs some reassurance.”

          Nick left him alone.  Derek managed to get a cup to his mouth and he drank deeply, then he lay back against his pillows.  His hands were aching, throbbing.  He saw that as good – his nerves still worked.  He couldn’t move his fingers because of the padding and bandages.  But he didn’t think about his wounds.  His mind was gripped by what he had seen.

          Pete eased around the door.  “Nick said you wanted to see me.  Derek, I’m so sorry.  I never meant – ”

          “I know.  Pete, it’s all right.  Don’t blame yourself.  You had a good idea, asking me to try this.  It showed me everything I needed to see.  Sit down.”

          Pete sat on the edge of the bed.  “You gave me a seriously bad turn, y’know that?”

          “One of the hazards of the job,” Derek commented with a slight shrug.

          “Okay, I’m listening,” Pete said.

 

*****

 

          Once he’d passed on the message, Nick poured himself a mug of black coffee and settled in the control room.  He figured he might as well start preparing now because it looked like being one of those nights.  With Derek out of action, Nick was alone in facing the entity.  For the first time since this started, he wished Merlin was here.  Not so she could fight it for him but .. so he could talk to her, she could listen to his ideas, suggest some tactics.  He thought about calling but she’d only wonder why and cut short the trip, and that would bring Kat into danger.

          I can do this, he decided.  I don’t know how but I can do it.  And I’m not exactly alone – I have Pete and Andrew.  Derek isn’t dead, only out of action.  He can still think, talk, suggest ideas.  Merli’s better off where she is.

          He glanced at the computer and was surprised.  Sixty percent of the translation was done.  The probability of it being right had dropped a couple of points but that was okay.  Then he put in some earphones and started to listen to the audio recordings.  He had been with Derek when they’d analyzed the cockpit recorder so he ran the house recordings thru his workstation with the same settings as on the audio analyzer – the middle suppressed, the top and base boosted, the speed slowed by a third.  He closed his eyes and listened.

          Behind him, a golden glow began to materialize.  It hovered about two feet behind his right shoulder, sparkling and twinkling, almost .. watching what he was doing despite having no eyes with which to see.

          Nick spun abruptly, frowning, sure he wasn’t alone.  But there was nothing there.  At least, nothing he could see.

          “We don’t mean you any harm,” he said clearly.  “None of us do.  The sword will go home to Japan.  It’s only here to be studied .. as a sword, nothing more.”

          Warily, he turned back and resumed his work.  But, this time, he kept his eyes open.

 

*****

 

          “I saw, at first, nothing except the aircraft interior.  The curtain was closed.  Then,” Derek related in a quiet, steady voice, reeling off facts with no emotion in his tone to influence his audience, “from the wooden crate containing the sword, a black mist began to crawl out.  It seemed heavy because it flowed sluggishly, hugging the side of the crate, then the floor.  Once it was clear of the holding area, it began to crawl up itself.”

          He glanced at Pete.  “Like a tower of acrobats, standing on the shoulders of the one below,” he explained and Pete nodded.  “When it got to the height of a man, it took on form, substance.  It was the same creature as the picture in the book.  No-Kami-No-Matsu.  It was difficult to gauge the expression on its face because it has a perpetual snarl but its eyes seemed to suggest it was pleased to be free.  It didn’t last long.  It strode forward to the curtain, jerked it aside, and opened its mouth.”

          “Did you hear it?” Pete frowned.

          Derek shook his head.  “I can hear sounds, sometimes, during these visions, but, fortunately for me, it was vision only this time or I might not have been here to tell you this.  I assume it was when it began its cry of rage that more black mist poured out.  It filled the cockpit like dark fog.  Then, after a few seconds, the demon opened its mouth again and sucked the mist back inside.  The flight crew were dead and looked more or less as they did when we saw them.  Partially mummified.  The mist must have done that.  Some properties within it desiccate living tissue.  The demon then seemed happy until it looked sharply at the instrument panel.”

          “The air traffic controller’s voice checking in,” Pete reasoned.

          “I think so, yes.  The demon appeared confused, nonplussed, a little agitated.  It studied the cockpit and .. I sensed, without really sensing, that it had no idea what to do or say.  It was at a complete loss.  It may not even have known the language to comprehend what it had heard or to respond in turn.  Then it leaned forward and put a hand on each shoulder.  Very lightly.  A mere touch.  Its mouth opened again and the mist poured out, entering both men thru the mouth and nose.  The demon must have spoken the reanimation spell because the crew began to move.”

          Derek swallowed.  “It was horrible to watch.  Their bodies, faces, hands, were all twisted in death yet they flew the plane.  The demon stood behind them with a hand on each of their shoulders until the aircraft taxied to a halt on the ground.  Then the mist flowed out again and reentered the demon, and it returned to mist itself and went back into the crate.”

          Pete nodded.  “Okay.  So we have to watch out for floor hugging black mist.”  He paused for a second.  “How do we stop this thing, Derek?”

          “I don’t know,” Derek admitted.  “Let me sleep on it and .. maybe I’ll have the answer in the morning.”

          “Okay.  We’ll have Andrew bring you up some supper.  For now, you stay put an’ get some rest.”

          “Tell Frances,” Derek requested.

          “Tell her what, exactly?” Pete frowned.  “That the blood was thick but didn’t pool yet did move round because the bodies were filled with black mist?”

          “Yes.  Exactly that,” Derek agreed.

          “Will she buy it?”

          “She’s worked with us before.”

          “Okay,” he shrugged.  “I’ll tell her.” 

          Pete left him and headed downstairs again.  He kept his gaze low, on the floor, and hoped Derek would have the answer by morning because this was way beyond what he understood.

 

*****

 

          Nick joined him for supper in the dining room.  “Did he tell you?”

          “Yeah.  Basically, it’s black fog, stays low until it’s about to attack, then it climbs up itself to a man’s height and takes on form.  From what Derek says, it’s pretty slow moving.  It crawls across the floor.”  Pete forked a piece of steak into his mouth and chewed speculatively.  “I think our best weapon is a leaf blower.”

          Nick grinned.

          “C’mon!  What’s so stupid about that?  I’ve had a good few hours on my own this afternoon to think about how we can protect ourselves.  I figured if we could stop it climbing up itself by scattering the mist, it can’t attack.  I went exploring.  You have a leaf blower in one of the outhouses.  Soon as I saw it, I thought bingo!”

          “You’re probably right,” Nick agreed.  “It’s just .. I’m used to all kinds of weapons – firearms, knives, crossbows, spears, swords.  Wooden stakes, silver bullets, you name it, I’ve used it.  I’m proficient with most, less so with others.  I never saw myself fighting a demon with a leaf blower, that’s all.  It’ll most likely work for the reason you state.”  He leaned back, his supper finished.  “Derek said he invited you here to stay because you think outside our usual box.  You just proved it.”

          Pete shrugged.  “I have a very keen an’ practical survival instinct.  As a cop, you learn you don’t wanna fight.  You wanna disarm, stop the bad guys before they start.  Fighting, shooting, is the last option.  Using something to disperse this mist avoids a fight.  If you do wanna fight it .. well, I guess a vacuum cleaner would be the weapon of choice.”

          “Temporarily.  Wouldn’t hold it for long,” Nick commented then grinned again.  “I am so glad none of my Team buddies can hear us having this conversation.”

          “Same goes for me.  If we had this talk in the precinct house, I’d never hear the end of it.”  Pete poured coffee and returned to the table.  “So what did you do this afternoon?”

          “Checked the house audio monitors.  Doesn’t really compare to Beethoven or Wagner for excitement.”

          “Get anything?”
          Nick hesitated then nodded.  “Yeah, kinda.  Yeah, I definitely picked up the same noises as on the cockpit recorder for the tape of last night.  It was around three this morning, around the time the kitchen got trashed.  I tracked it from the library down to the foyer, an’ back again.”

          “So why’d you hesitate?  Why say kinda?” Pete asked.

          “There was something else.  A different sound.  It wasn’t on the cockpit recording that I heard.  I only just picked it up at the settings we used an’ I had to damp down the base, boost the top end a little more to get it clearer.  Derek said he wanted to listen to the voice recorder again .. so maybe it is on there too.”

          “What does it prove?” Pete inquired.

          “Maybe nothing.  Could be natural harmonics.”

          “So why bother?”

          “Because the Luna Foundation has a motto – faith has need of the whole truth.  We bother because, otherwise, we’d miss something an’ that something could be important.”

          Pete scratched at his ear.  “The criminal justice system has a similar motto – the truth, the whole truth, an’ nothing but the truth, so help you God.  I can understand your motto.  But not tonight.  I’m beat.  See you in the morning.”

          “ ’Night,” Nick murmured.

          Pete left him alone to finish his coffee.  Andrew came in to clear the table.

          “I’ve taken Dr Rayne a small supper.  Is he going to be all right?”

          “I think so.  The cuts were quite deep on one hand.  He lost blood.  Bed rest, fluids, light food should see him okay.  Why?  You ask for a reason?” Nick frowned.

          “I woke him when I entered.  He’d been sleeping.  Dr Rayne didn’t appear feverish in any way but he said he’d seen golden lights in his room.”

          “Maybe he was dreaming.  I’ll check in on him later.”

          “Very well.  I’ll just put these in the dishwasher.”  Andrew hesitated.  “Nick, I can stay over tonight, if it’ll help.”

          “I won’t force you to leave but I think we got it covered.  And, if you do go, you can hit the grocery store on your way in tomorrow.”

          “There is that.  Good idea.  I’ll see you in the morning then.  Goodnight, sir.”

          “ ’Night, Andrew.  Safe journey home.”

          Then Nick really was left on his own.  He poured another cup of coffee and drank it, thinking about common domestic appliances and their place in the war against evil, black mist, golden lights, and a nearly completed translation.  He shook his head, and went to set the alarms.

 

*****

 

          Pete woke bright and early, rose, showered, shaved, and set off for the kitchen.  He thought he’d check it over before Andrew got there, just in case any more nocturnal antics had wrecked the place.  He hadn’t heard anything, but then he hadn’t heard anything the first time it had happened.  As he crossed the foyer, Nick came in.

          “Jeez, what time did you rise an’ shine this morning?” he demanded.

          “Around six thirty .. an’ it was more wake an’ crawl outta bed than rise an’ shine,” Nick admitted.  “Didn’t crawl into bed till nearly one.”

          “What were you doing?  Keeping watch?”

          “Partly.  Working the rest of the time.  With Derek outta action, all this is my responsibility.”

          “But I’m not out of action,” Derek said as he came down the stairs.

          “You shouldn’t be up,” Nick accused, in spite of the fact his Precept looked very well.

          “I’m fine.”  Derek held out his hands.  There were no bandages.  No cuts, no scars, no evidence of any wounds at all.

          “How ..?” Pete and Nick chorused warily.

          “The sword has the power to heal as well as to kill.”

          “When did this happen?” Nick asked.  “I checked in on you before I hit the rack at just after one.  You were asleep.  Did you go downstairs?”

          “I stayed in my room all night.  As far as I know, I slept all night,” Derek replied.  “When I woke this morning, the bandages were at the side of the bed and I was cured.”

          “No black mist in your room?” Pete ventured.

          “No.  What I saw were golden lights.”

          “Andrew said you’d told him that.  We thought you’d dreamed it.”

          “Obviously, I didn’t,” Derek answered.  “Pete, if you will excuse us, we have work to do.”

          “This is my case, Derek,” Pete pointed out.  “If you’re going over that recording again, I wanna be there.”

          “And you will.  Nick and I have other work to do first.”

          “Fine.  I’ll go check the kitchen,” Pete muttered irritably and walked away.  “Arm myself with a dust devil … ”

          Derek overheard this and frowned but Nick grinned. 

          “I got time for a shower?” he queried as they climbed the stairs.

          “First, bring me up to speed.”

          “Translation’s done.  I read thru it, it makes no sense to me whatsoever but the syntax could be a little off.  And I checked the house monitors.  I got the same sounds as on the cockpit recorder .. plus something else.”

          “Really.  That is interesting.  Tell me more as we walk.”

 

*****

 

          Derek flexed his hands and marveled at how good they felt.  Even a couple of childhood scars had disappeared overnight.  He made a point of visiting the sword which was back in its crate in the lab, inclining his head, and saying thank you.  Then he returned to his office and picked up the printout Nick had left on the desk.

          He read it a couple of times, frowning as he worked his way around the tortuous syntax of archaic Japanese.  The computer had rendered it into an Anglicized version of the Japanese words as well as into English.  Derek read both.  Having seen the vision, Derek didn’t really need the translation but it would be appended to the report of this investigation.  It was, essentially, a chant imploring the corpse to rise and assume a parody of life, beholden to the voice which spoke to it.  At least, that was Derek’s interpretation of the translation the computer had done.

          He made a few notes at the base of the printout, initialed and dated it, then set it aside to look at the other thing Nick had left for him.  It was a note of the settings he’d used to clean up the house recording.  Derek would need this to confirm what he suspected – there were two entities in the sword.  One good, one which cured the sick and healed the wounded, and one evil, one which killed without even a first thought.  Black mist, golden lights.

          Derek took the CD of the cockpit voice recorder and set up the audio equipment in the library.  Nick came in, his hair still damp.

          “You figured it out yet?” he asked.

          “Almost.  This should prove my theory.  My old Precept was right.  Just because you think you have all the answers doesn’t always mean that you do.  No situation is ever that dire that you can’t take a little time to check again.”

          “Unless you have your back to the wall an’ the thing’s closing in fast,” Nick commented.

          “Even then,” Derek defended.  “Don’t tell me you don’t check your gun has bullets, even though you know that it does.”

          “Maybe,” Nick conceded.

          Derek raised an eyebrow.  “You always check your aim.”

          “Okay,” Nick grinned, “you got me on that one.”

          They regarded each other.  “You did good work, finding these settings,” Derek commented.  “There used to be a time when I would fight against being incapacitated, being forced to my bed.  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust people, it was more .. I was afraid something would be missed or someone might make a terrible mistake that only I could prevent.  Not any more.  I know you will do whatever is necessary, no matter how long it takes, no matter what the cost, to yourself or to others.  I am .. very grateful that you chose to overcome your personal history regarding the Legacy and join us here.  You make my life easier, Nick.”

          Not expecting this, Nick flushed slightly.  “Yeah, well .. you know, more than anyone else here, that I haven’t always found your decisions easy to live with but you’ve always stood by me, been the family I always wanted but never had.  Loyalty means a lot to me, Derek.  An’ .. what I get, I give.”

          Derek nodded, his eyes warming.  “Now, tell me .. what did Pete mean by .. dust devil?”

          Nick laughed softly.  “He has this idea that we should use a leaf blower as defense.  Scatter the mist, it can’t form.  If it can’t form, it can’t attack.  And, if we wanna fight it, we use a vacuum cleaner as a temporary containment device.”

          Derek was silent for a moment.  “He certainly has an unusual approach to problem solving,” he remarked at last.

          “For sure,” Nick agreed, amused.

          “Well, the kitchen’s fine so I found the fixings an’ put on a pot of coffee,” Pete said as he strode in.  “Andrew’s just arrived.  He said to tell you forty minutes.”

          “As punctual as ever,” Derek commented, making a note of the time.

          “Can I take a look at your hands?” Pete inquired.  Derek held them out, palm up.  “That is incredible.  An’ you have full movement?”

          “I appear to, yes.”

          “I was sure you’d cut thru to the bone.”

          “I probably did,” Derek agreed.

          “So .. a golden light fixed you up .. and a black mist killed the crew.”  Pete’s face blanked for a second.  “There’s two of ’em, isn’t there?”

          “That’s what we have to prove,” Derek replied.  “If you’re ready, we’ll make a start.”

 

*****

 

          Pete leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table top.  “Can’t you get it any clearer?  It’s so faint … ”

          Derek began cautiously turning dials.

          “Maybe it doesn’t have much of a voice,” Nick remarked, arms folded.  “It could be more a visual phenomenon.  Just because the black mist turns into something which has a voice which can kill an’ a face even its mother would dislike, doesn’t mean the golden light can do the same.”

          “This is the best I can get with this equipment,” Derek said, finally admitting defeat.

          “Play it again,” Pete requested.

          Derek reset the CD.  Now the noise they’d heard before was almost silent.  All other background noise had been damped right down as well.

          “When is this in the flight?” Nick whispered.

          Derek checked the counter.  “About the reanimation point.”

          “There.  There it is,” Pete said.  “Is that .. what I think it is?  Laughter?”

          “Sounds like it,” Nick agreed heavily.

          “But that can’t be right,” Pete said.  “Are they working in tandem?  One kills, the other laughs about it?  How does that fit in with healing people?”

          Derek leaned closer, his head angling.  “It isn’t laughter.  It’s a very high, musical voice.  It’s speaking.  Listen.”  He replayed it again.

          “What’s it saying?” Pete demanded.  “I never even mastered Spanish.  Japanese is way beyond my level of understanding.”

          “I don’t understand it either,” Derek confessed, switching off the playback and shrugging.  “But .. now that the computer has translated the first speech, it should be able to translate this in a lot less time.  Nick, set it up.”

          “Yes, boss.”

          “Hey, wait a second,” Pete said.  “You got a translation?  You never said you were even working on a translation.”

          Derek pursed his lips.  “We didn’t know if we could get one.  It took till midnight last night.  Over twenty four hours, Pete.  Why raise hopes?  And, anyway, that translation is now redundant to this investigation.”

          Your investigation, yes.  My investigation, no way.  It’s evidence, Derek.  Don’t make me arrest you for withholding it.”

          “Nick, it’s in my office.  Would you get a copy for Detective Miller?” Derek requested.

          “Sure.”

          “Dr Rayne?  Breakfast is served,” Andrew reported.

          “I’ll fetch the copy to the dining room,” Nick said.  “I’ll just get the computer working on the second translation and be along in a few minutes.”

          Pete followed Derek out.  “Derek, c’mon.  Don’t go defensive on me.”

          “I’m not.  In fact, I offer my apologies.  I forgot your investigation is running alongside ours.  You’ve been such a help to us that I had begun to think of you as a part of my team.”

          “Really?”  Pete’s eyes widened.  “Wow, that is some praise.  I appreciate it, thank you.”

          “It isn’t praise, it’s the truth.”

          “So why is the first translation redundant?”

          “Because I saw the vision of what happened.  We know the creature spoke words and we know what it did as it spoke them.  Therefore, we don’t need to know the words in English.  But the process by which the computer carried out the task is invaluable for translating the second voice on the recording, so it was not a waste of time by any means.”

          “An’ how soon will we know?”

          “Hopefully .. before we sit down to lunch,” Derek replied.

 

*****

 

          While Derek, Pete and Nick sat down to eat breakfast and talk over ideas, Andrew returned to the kitchen to make a start on lunch and finish putting away the groceries.  Pete had offered to help earlier but Andrew had politely refused.  He knew where everything went in the larder.  Restocking it was one job it was quicker to do alone.

          He’d gotten a bargain on Pacific salmon and he intended to cook some of it for supper that evening.  The rest he put in the freezer next to the cold store.  What to prepare for lunch ..?

          Andrew worked methodically, unpacking the boxes he’d brought over in his automobile, carrying the contents thru to the larder, stacking them on the shelves, returning for the next batch.  Not steak, he thought.  We had steak yesterday – twice.  Maybe a summer risotto …  I think I have some prawns somewhere.

          One by one, the shelves began to look healthy again.  He put some beer to chill in the icebox and the rest in a corner of the larder.  Nick did enjoy a bottle of beer in the evening.

          Would it help if I put a lock on the door ..?  Probably not.  If something can escape the security precautions, a lock on the larder door isn’t going to stop it breaking in.  This floor still feels a little sticky …  I’ll have to scrub it again, maybe at the weekend.

          Andrew put the last of the groceries away and, still not quite decided on the lunch menu, returned to the kitchen to make a list for his next shopping expedition.  There was a hardware wholesale depot in Belvedere, and the house was starting to run short on light bulbs, bleach and furniture polish.

          Behind him, from the corridor leading to the cold store, a black mist started to crawl over the floor.

          Firelighters.  I know it’s summer right now but best to stock up when they’re a little less expensive.  Silver polish and cloths.  We get thru so many …

          Slowly, the mist began to climb, one on the shoulders of the one below …

 

 

 

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