This choice: Something's wrong: Question the kid now • Go Back...Chapter #9A Voice from Beyond the Walls of Night by: Seuzz   "My name is Will Prescott," you say, and hold your hand out to the kid. He hesitates before taking it. "Maybe Kali did not tell you about me." You continue addressing him in his native tongue.
"You know Korean," Min-jun says, and doesn't look especially pleased.
"I know many languages. I know you. Joe told me about you. You are from Seoul?" He nods. You release his hand, and he flinches as you step past him into the apartment. "I thought you were studying with Nash."
"I came here one month ago. Nash-- His English--" He makes a face.
You laugh softly. "Yeh. It will take you a while until you understand him." You can't help flashing him a merry look. "How is Kali's English? The English here?"
He just shrugs.
You glance around. Rick could probably tell in an instant what's wrong, but you've only your own experience to draw on, and so can't pin down the "off" note, aside from the hostile kid. The furniture is familiar--it's the same tasteful decor Kali had in California--and the tchotchkes are the same. The vase by the door. That African mask on the wall. The photo of the Loch Ness Monster.
"You are Kenandandra and Arbol?" you ask as you glance around, weighing each object and discarding it as the source of darkness. "You will invent transporter beams and phasers after your training. You like science-fiction?"
He shrugs again.
"What are you learning from Kali?"
"English," he says truculently.
"Ha! She started me with history and social studies. Very bad. But English." You cluck your tongue. "Poor Min-jun."
He continues to stand awkwardly, his face twisted with fear and suspicion. He's definitely got himself in trouble, you think to yourself.
"What about magic, Min-jun? We do not like that word in any language, but-- You play some of those old computer games? I think John and Nash did not make any new ones."
"Pssh," he snorts. "Easy stuff."
"Yeh. You really want to see the advanced stuff?"
It was a plausible stab, and seems to have drawn blood, for his dark cheek pales, and his eyes dart about. You circle about him, to close the door with a hard click, and look over to see where he's glanced.
It's that African mask.
Your heart skips. Masks. You don't like masks. "Where is Kali?"
He shifts a little, turning his shoulder toward you. "She went to Leeds. She had a client to meet."
"When did she leave?"
"Two days ago."
"When will she be back?"
"After two days."
"She must trust you, if she left you alone for five days." You step behind him, and can sense the sweat on him. "She gave you some homework?" His head jerks up and down. "What do you have?"
"English."
"No sigils?"
He shakes his head violently.
You walk about him in a circle. "You know Kali and Nash and Joe. Anyone else? She did not tell you about me?" He shakes his head, and hunches his shoulders. "You know Rick Bredon? Frank Durras? That's Joe's brother."
"No."
"You are going to know us some day. Frank and Rick and I are Malacandrans. You know what that means?"
He swallows. "You are soldiers?"
"Warriors. Killers when we have to be." You pass behind his back, and so it'll be a real nice shock for him, you shift into the form of one of his countrymen. "Six men, Min-jun," you say as you pass back in front of him, and look him direct in the eye. "This was my face when I killed six men last year."
His mouth drops open and his eyes widen, but he only turns his head fractionally as you pass behind him again, so he doesn't see the next change until you're back in front of him. "You will see this man when you meet Frank. He is in London now, but if I call he can show up any time. He killed five people last year. He had many vacations." Another pass behind Min-jun, and another change. "But it is not a competition. I am glad. Rick Bredon kills many more than Frank and me. If you are not a good kid, you do not want to meet Rick. Not the real Rick, but I can do a good impersonation."
Min-jun's scalp crawls back and forth on his head. Your mouth--Rick's mouth--feels very dry, and your voice rasps. "Kali is a good girl, and Nash is very nice, and the kid who found you in Seoul is twenty-eight playgrounds of fun. But do not fuck with the Malacandrans if you value your soul, Min-jun."
You drop your voice to a whisper as you lean in very close. "If you want to tell Joe what you have been fucking around with in Kali's absence, I can arrange that before you can blink an eye. But you are going to tell someone, and you are going to tell someone very quickly."
Behind you, something clatters to the floor.
* * * * *
Min-jun huddles miserably at the kitchen table while you look through his sheaf of notes. Joe gave you a copy of his most recent study-memories when you saw him a few months ago, and you consult them as you study the sigils. They are an interesting combination of the childish and the sophisticated. The kid has talent, there's no mistaking that, but it's undisciplined, and he's plunged deep into waters he should have stayed well out of.
Of course, you could just pull his memories out of him, but you don't do that to your colleagues--even the new and raw ones--without their permission, and Min-jun doesn't know enough to give you legitimate permission. Besides, he needs a little fear instilled in him, which is why you were rough.
You're gentler now, as he's more or less thrown himself on your mercy. You're back in Nick Martin's form, which you judge a good one for the interrogation. Nick has a nice smile, but he's taut and strong. "You found all these in 'Call of the Constellations'?" you ask skeptically.
"Some." He lurches forward to point. "These, I saw if you put them together in this order, instead of the way--"
"Yeh," you nod. "If you put them together one way you get chocolate ice cream. If you put them together another way you get nitroglycerin." You flip to another sheet. "But I think John did not put these in that game."
"I was checking Kali's library," he says. "One book--"
You stare at him, then leap to your feet. "Let me see."
He totters alongside you, into an office. It's smaller than her LA office, and it takes you a moment to see that she's recreated the layout of Margaret's old parlor. You smile a little to yourself. But Min-jun tugs you over to a bookshelf, and pulls out a tome. "This."
You blink. It's only an engineering manual. Advanced, but it shouldn't-- "You changed some?"
He nods. "Nash showed me some tricks. You know origami?"
"Nash's origami? Yes. Yeh, I begin to see."
But you still have to frown, and take him back into the kitchen, where you again pore over his sigils.
You don't touch the mask, which is laying on the table between you and the kid. It was awful enough having to pick it up off the floor and carry it in, but you didn't want Min-jun touching it.
After a quarter-hour you have to ask him for a hint. "I still do not see what you did. You are sure this thing talked to you? It has been very quiet."
His face twists up, and he nods fervently. "I thought I was dreaming, but it kept talking. Whispering things."
"What things?"
He shrinks down, looking utterly miserable. "It said it wanted to be my friend. It said I should make more things like it, to be my friends."
"You know you do not want to be friends with things like this?"
He bites his lip, and nods. Probably he wasn't sure. All this stuff is so new to him.
"Yeh," you continue. "Notice it does not want to be friends with me." You trace the sigils closely with a fingertip. "It needed an animating principle. How did you manage that?"
"I used some dirt."
"Dirt?" you ask sharply, and the back of your scalp prickles.
"Vegetative force," he says. "I thought that would be--"
"Where did you get the dirt?" You try to keep the anger from your voice.
"From Kali's plant."
"Let me see."
He leads you into her office again, and points. It's a small yellow flower in a simple pot. You'll have to ask Kali about it, for you can't imagine that she--
You put Min-jun into a chair and pin him in place with a pointed finger. "Until I get back do not move or touch anything."
* * * * *
From your kit you draw a special pair of gloves and take the mask downstairs, where you hunt about the neighborhood until you find an alley. The thing should only be a kind of golem, and you know how to deal with them. And thanks to that visitation last night, you've a pretty good idea of what kind of golem you're carrying.
You place your hand on its inner surface, feel the sigil form in the palm of the glove, and rip at the mask. A horrible shriek rents the air.
You make it back inside without anyone seeing you.  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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