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Samantha Berg and the Psychotic Scientist by The stenches of the south side assaulted my nose, but they always did
that. By this point in my life, I was completely used to the smells of cheap
restaurant garbage and whore house stale sex. That didn't bother me, though
somewhere in the back of my mind I supposed that it should. The magical pulsing of the glowing spark I held in my hands was
interesting in all the wrong ways, but it also didn't bother me. The bright
golden glow shined a powerful light in the fading twilight, drawing perhaps a
little more attention to me than I would have wanted. I was in the south side,
after all, and the area was bad enough that some gypsy or spellboy might get
the wrong idea. Still, I was a ritualist, and a damn good one, too. A powerful
magical item didn't bother me, even if its threads were of a nasty sort. The constant shaking of the ground bothered me a touch, I had to
admit. The rhythmic earthquakes that made the roads tremble and the buildings
sway, threatening to bring building material down on my head, was a bit of a
nuisance. Each occurrence made me stumble and nearly lose my footing, though I
was sturdy enough to keep it. Truth be told, it kept the gypsies and spellboys
off the street and off my back, so if it had just been the shaking alone I
might have been grateful. It was the fact that each earthquake was connected to a footstep by
the giant magi-mechanical spider that was coming towards me, hell bent on
retrieving its magical spark. The magical spark I had in my hand, and could
under no circumstances let the thing have. That was the part that really
bothered me. Well, that and the nudity, but the nudity was more just insult to
the injury. * * * It was a normal day in my office, if by normal you mean dark because I
was trying to conserve the last of the electricity my fairy left me. My sweet
talking had earned me a small reprieve in the form of a storage container, but
I was down to the last few hours’ worth. I couldn't afford to use it for
something so minor as trying to wash my clothes. With my hands elbow deep in a sink full of soapy water, I almost
didn't hear the knock on my door. My finely attuned money senses wouldn't let
me miss the sound of a client, however, and I caught the sound on the second
go. I looked back towards my door, preparing to call whoever was outside in,
when the door flew open. Into my office stepped Billy, mercifully more clothed than he'd been
the last time I saw him. He still had a far away look in his eyes that seemed
to gleam dementedly in the candle light. Following close behind him was a
short, twitchy man with a mop of brown hair that seemed to constantly cover his
eyes. That really should have been my first clue that everything would go to
hell. There has never been a time when a scrawny, twitchy man walking into my
office ended with me being happy. “Sammy!” Billy ran to me and threw his arms around me in a hug about
as awkward as a three legged cat. He didn't even give me time to fully turn
from the sink. “How's your mother?” “Still not talking to me after my divorce,” I responded, reaching my
soapy hands down and attempting to pry his arms loose from around my waist.
This proved to be more difficult than I'd imagined, because something about
Billy seemed to react to the soap and made it far more slippery than it needed
to be. I eventually twined my fingers with his and pried his hands off. Billy was an old family friend, and knew more about the nature of
magic and the ethereal planes than any person I'd ever met. Sadly, this
knowledge came with a price, in that Billy was often unaware of his
surroundings, or how awkward things were, or anything resembling normal social
convention. “Who's your friend, Billy?” I asked quickly, before he decided to pout
at my ending of our hug. “Oh, yes. This is Lord Duke Count Sir Cedric Wordsworth von
Londonwontonfron,” Billy said, indicating the twitchy man who still stood by my
door. “Lord Duke Count Sir, this is Samantha, the ritualist I was telling you
about.” “...Actually, my name is Percy Meville...” the man said, almost
apologetically. He kept his eyes lowered, his body slouched, and for a moment I
thought maybe he really did wish his name was Lord Duke Count whatever just to
avoid an awkward situation. “Oh, yes yes, apologies,” Billy
said quickly. “I keep confusing you with with your ethereal doppleganger.” “Right. What can I do for you, Percy?” I again spoke quickly. I didn't
know what Billy was talking about, but I'd found out over the years that if you
didn't know what Billy was talking about, it was best to not let him talk about
it. Percy jumped a bit, as if directly addressing him had thrown him off his
slouching groove. “Oh...My partner stole our project, and, well, I'm afraid he's going
to do something horrible with it, and I was talking to Billy and he said you
were great at finding things people couldn't find and I just don't want anyone
getting hurt...” Percy spoke without taking a single breath. I wondered where
he was keeping all that oxygen. “Alright. So why not go to the cops? I'm sure this is the kind of
thing they can deal with,” I grabbed a nearby towel, and began to dry my hands.
I offered the towel to Billy, but he was busy sliding his hands together in a
studious way. “I...I can't...” He looked to Billy, as if seeking some sort of
approval. Billy nodded once, and Percy spoke again. “Our project
was...magi-mechanical in nature...” Well, that would explain it. There were three ways of combining magic
and technology, at least two ways that didn't wind up exploding. The first was
using a magical substance as a power source. That was relatively safe, since
the magic was little more than a battery pack. The second was a standard
enchantment, like with my enchanted bullets. This was also fairly safe, since
the thread was still whole and intact and would heal itself normally in time.
The third way was called magi-mechanical infusion. It was similar to creating a
permanent magical item, only approached from the other direction. The threads
seemed to dislike being bound technologically, however. Combine that with the
fact that most people trying magi-mechanical infusion had a healthy disdain for
proper treatment of the threads, since otherwise they'd just learn to use
magic, and magi-mechanical infusion wound up being rather unsafe. It had been
banned in “So you can't go to the cops, right. Do you know what your partner
wants to do with this...thing?” I tried to keep the contempt out of my voice,
but only a little. Improper treatment of the threads never sat right with me,
and magi-mechanical infusion was even more rude than pulling a spellboy. If
Billy hadn't brought the guy, I might have told him to get lost. “I...I don't. I didn't even realize he was trying to steal it...I
guess I should have known. We were working on...” Before he could continue,
Billy interrupted. “The most amazing magi-mechanical thing I've ever seen, Sammy! Oh, by
the spirits, is it amazing!” Billy began to dance around my office, spinning in
slow, random patterns. “The mental command threads, the way it talks...it could
be the next step in mystical evolution!” “I...I wouldn't go that far...” Percy said, scratching his chin
nervously. “It was...it was just a magi-mechanical...well, I guess
intelligence...” “Woah, hold up a moment.” I didn't like the sound of that one bit. “A
technological demon? What the hell possessed you to do that kind of thing?!” “Not a demon!” Percy shrank down even more than he'd been shrunk down
previously, which was impressive. “It didn't have any kind of sentience! It
could just respond to simple commands and learn how to interact with the world
around it!” “The hell do you think demons do?” I threw my hands up in
frustration, before looking at Billy. “Why the hell did you bring him to me,
Billy?” “Sammy, you must break free of tradition!” Billy spoke with an airy
voice as he twirled around my desk. “The threads are weak outside the wetlands,
and any century now they could weaken more. If we do not learn to evolve in our
understanding of their uses, the art will die completely.” Billy stopped
spinning, and sat down in front of my desk. “Plus, he brought two thousand cash
to pay for the initial tracking.” I really wished I lived the kind of life where I could have slapped
Billy for suggesting I'd throw away my principles for two grand in cold hard
cash. That would have been nice. * * * Thankfully, the job sounded like a simple one. Percy's partner had
taken the device that housed the intelligence, and run off to parts unknown.
This had happened only a few hours ago, and Percy was of the opinion that there
was no way his partner could have skipped town yet. Whether he had or not, I
was still charging the full two grand for tracking down the guy. It took only a few minutes to strip down, set up the candles, and sit
myself in the center of the pentagram for the connecting ritual. Percy had
given me his partner's old lab coat, which had enough of a connection thread
for me to follow. I stretched my awareness down the thread, passing through the
glittery spider-web of magic that criss-crossed the city. I carefully avoided
magical command threads that might jolt me into things I didn't want to do,
threads containing energies I didn't want to touch like fire or sewage, until I
finally reached... “By the spirits, why me?” I muttered without meaning to. “Has he skipped town?” Billy asked from where he sat outside the
pentagram. “No. He's in the south side,” I responded bitterly. This knowledge
made me wish I'd simply left the whole thing to Billy. Billy wouldn't have
found the man, however, since Billy had a non-direct interference rule. He
could bring people together, but he never interfered with anything via magic. I
still wasn't sure if it was self-imposed or not. “Ah. Well, that shouldn't be a problem, Sammy. You know how to
navigate the south side, and I'm positive you can properly ward yourself to
avoid someone attempting to pull a spellboy with your threads.” I knew Billy
thought he was being helpful, but he wasn't. The south side was the bad part of the city, where crimes happened on
a daily basis and you could get shot if you didn't know how to keep your head
down. Shot was often the least of ones concerns, however. The south side was
also where all the skeevy magic happened. Half-trained gypsies and
over-confident spellboys had a bad habit of taking advantage of the marks, and
if you didn't ward yourself properly you could wind up giving up a lot more
than just your wallet. “Does...does that mean you can't get the machine back..?” Percy asked,
fear making his voice tremble. It was so pathetic that I couldn't bring myself
to tell him no. “Depends. Can you get an extra two grand to pay for the recovery?” It
wasn't a no. It was a 'only if you have the money', which is a distinctly
different answer. “I...I can do half of that...I'd need to call a few people before I
can get a full two thousand, but I have an extra thousand in my account right
now...” Percy stammered, twiddling his thumbs to give his eyes something to
focus on that wasn't my naked body. I did feel bad for making him nervous. I'd
almost put on a robe, but when I'd agreed to the search Billy had immediately
stripped down and proclaimed that he wanted to 'follow along'. “Yeah, that'll be fine. And hey, I'll make you a deal.” I began to
ward myself in preparation for the trip, which was fairly simple. A few knots
in my personal threads and I was safe enough. If someone was good enough to
untie my knots, then they were good enough that I'd need more time than I had
to set up a proper ward. “If it's just a simple smash and grab situation, I
won't even charge you the full two grand.” “That's...very nice of you. Do...do you want me to come along?”
Percy's tone suggested that he would rather throw himself from the window of my
office than come along to the south side. He was in luck, since I didn't want
him there anyway. “No, don't worry about it. You'd get shot, anyway.” Threads knotted, I
released my connection and moved for my clothing. The knowledge of the location
stayed with me in a fuzzy sort of way, but the connection had been solid enough
that I wasn't worried about losing it any time soon. The guy had seemed awake
and functional, which was a mixed blessing. If he decided to start moving, I'd
be sunk on tracking him down. I'd been tempted to just stay connected, but that
led to its own problems in terms of my insides roasting. I pulled on my clothes, and then grabbed my shoulder holster. I laced
it up, and slid my revolver into place. I then reached for my hat and coat, and
only then noticed that Billy was throwing on his clothes, too. Had it been
anyone else, I'd have simply presumed that he was getting dressed now that the
ritual was done. Billy wasn't anyone else. “You're not coming either, Billy.” I stated this as firmly as I possibly
could, in hopes that it would get through his head. I'm not sure why I hope
things any more. “Sammy, I was there when this project first laid foundation in the
firmament of the tapestry. I simply must see the whole thing!” He thrust
his pinky finger into the air, as if to emphasize his point. I debated with
myself over whether it would be more annoying trying to keep him safe, or
spending time arguing with him. It was quite a debate. I made several solid
points that I found it difficult to argue with. Then I realized Billy was
rubbing off on me, and made the decision for speed. “You got a car?” I asked. “I'll pay for a taxi,” he responded emphatically. That was all the
answer I needed. * * * The south side was just as dirty as I'd remembered, though I'd be
lying if I said the fact that Billy had to pay the danger fee didn't make me
feel a little better. The fact that it was mid-afternoon helped too, given that
the real scum didn't tend to show up until after dark. A lone man in a scuzzy
looking coat asked passersby if they wanted to buy some magic charms, and the
cheap perfume of a hooker a block away wafted to my nose, but otherwise it
could have been any number of poorly maintained city blocks in Sonyar. It wasn't any city block, though. It was the south side. Keeping that
in mind, I grabbed Billy by his upper arm and tugged him away from the puddle
of yellow gunk that had grabbed his attention. He protested, but I ignored it.
Billy and I had an understanding. I didn't call him crazy, and I was allowed to
ignore any crazy words he spewed. It worked well for us. “So what's this project really like?” I asked, as much to get Billy to
stop talking about the effluvia demons in the lower planes as out of curiosity. “Oh, Sammy, it is truly amazing,” he began responding almost
immediately, which meant he must have been sincere. He's not usually so quick
to switch gears. “They managed to combine basic mental command threads to a
computer hard drive. It's capable of sorting through the information stored,
using the best information it has for the situation, and then storing the
reaction and changing the information based on what happened!” “Aren't they making computer programs that do that, anyway?” I didn't
know all the different ways technology was growing, but that sounded like
something I'd read about in a newspaper. “Yes, but those things are cold and dead. This mind can see and
interact with the threads, Sammy!” The very idea seemed to excite him as much
as it horrified me. “When last I saw it, the mind could only identify threads,
but given enough time? It could possibly follow them as well as any newly
trained ritualist!” “...Maybe you could talk about the end of my job with a little
less enthusiasm?” I said, not bothering to hide my disgust. “Oh, Sammy. You're far better than any newly trained ritualist.
Besides, it can comprehend the essence of the threads, but not its effect on
the physical world. That has to be programmed into the mind.” Billy seemed
unconcerned about the creation of a technological demon, and that bugged me on
some level. I decided to ignore it, and focus on the job at hand. The trip through the south side was strangely uneventful, and had I
been less of a realist I'd have been happy about it. As it was, I took it as an
omen. The location of the thread's end was an old, abandoned storage warehouse.
The walls were half-rusted sheet metal, held up with the occasional steel
girder. It wasn't an especially large example of its species, not even taking
up a full quarter of the block. It was, however, solid enough that I hesitated
at the idea of simply charging in. Perhaps Percy's partner had run to the south
side without realizing where he was going. Just as likely, however, was that he
was smart and nasty enough to have set the place up defensively. “Billy,” I said as I withdrew my gun. “You packing heat?” “No,” he responded after a moment's thought. “I do, however, have the
precise opposite.” It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about before the
pieces fell together in my head. “Oh, cold charm. Alright, that works. You move
around to the other side, see if you can find an easy way to peer in. I want to
stay as unseen as possible.” “Oh, you know I can't do that, Sammy,” he responded with a sad tone.
“That would be too close to direct interference. If I had a tool to give you to
do it yourself, though, I totally would.” I managed to bite back my response to his non-interference policy, and
instead began circling the place. I moved slowly and quietly, years of practice
keeping my footfalls quiet. Billy, to his credit, was far more quiet than I'd
expected him to be. That in no way stopped him from moving in an over the top
parody of someone trying to be stealthy. I almost would have preferred the
sound. Turned out, it wouldn't have mattered either way. As we moved around
to the back of the building, we were greeted by the sight of a twitchy man in a
lab coat. When I say twitchy, I don't just mean nervous looking. I mean his
entire body twitched every few moments. That wouldn't bother me, if it wasn't
for the fact that he was holding a rather large revolver, pointed right at me. “Now, is that any way to greet a couple of people just talking a
walk?” I said, raising my hands into the air. If I had a little more distance,
I might try to point and shoot my own gun. As it was, he was point blank. The
man twitched in response to my question. “Error. Subject, Samantha Berg. Presence on thread starting at
fourteen hundred hours.” The man's voice was lifeless as he spoke. “Subject
Berg will come with me, or will have life thread cut.” “That's Professor Stenson,” Billy whispered to me as he leaned closer.
“He was Lord Duke Count Sir Cedric Wordsworth von Londonwontonfron's partner.”
Somehow, I wasn't surprised. “Look. Stenson. I got an idea. How about you put that gun down, we'll
have a nice chit chat over coffee. Talk about this nifty artificial
intelligence you guys were working on?” I hoped to get the guy talking,
distract him some how. Under normal circumstances, it might have been a good
idea. “Subject Berg will come with me,” was the only response I got. I'd
have to try something else. “Stenson, look. You and I both know how illegal what you're doing is.
You can either give me the mind, or you can talk to the cops I'll have coming
in five minutes or less.” A direct threat, and a direct lie. If it threw him
off his game even for a moment, it would be worth it. It didn't throw him off his game even for a moment. Before I could
react, Stenson swung his gun at my head. It caught me hard in the temple, and
my world went fuzzy for a moment before my brain decided a nap was an awesome
idea. * * * The next several minutes are still a bit fuzzy to me. I remember being
picked up and carried. Then nothing until I was in a chair and being tied up. I
didn't finally come fully conscious until I was tied firmly into a chair, my
wrists bound to the arms. My head throbbed with pain, and I couldn't tell if I
wanted to throw up, or just let my stomach leave and head off on that cruise it
had always wanted. I tried to move experimentally, to find that not only was I
tied firmly, but tied to something. “Oh, good, you're awake,” came Billy's voice from directly behind me.
“I had worried when I saw your thread's energy fluctuate.” “Lotta help you are, Billy,” I managed to grunt out. “I'm very sorry, Sammy, but what could I do? My life isn't directly
threatened, and I can't interfere!” Billy sounded quite sincere in his apology.
That only served to increase my desire to kill him. I bit that back and began to look around. We were inside the storage
building, obviously. What impressed me was how it had been set up. Bits of
steel and other metals were laying about the place, along with several large
tool boxes. It reminded me of a mechanic’s shop, particularly with the way
Stenson was busy using a tool I didn't recognize on some large, engine like
object. At least, it looked like an overly large combustion engine. I wasn't a
mechanic, so I couldn't guess what it might be. That wasn't the most interesting thing in the room, however. The most
interesting thing was a small grey box on a pedestal, sprouting electrical
wires. The box wasn't any larger than a jewelry box, and I couldn't figure out
what it might possibly be. Whatever it was, Stenson occasionally stopped
messing with the engine and turned towards it, looking at it as if they were
conversing. That was when I realized what I was seeing. “That box is the mind, isn't it?” I whispered to Billy. “It is. You should see it, Sammy. Its spark is absolutely beautiful in
the way it glows.” After all this, Billy still was in awe of the thing. That
didn't decrease my desire to kill him. “It's got a hold of Stenson's mind, I'm guessing?” The pain was waning
to a dull throb, for which I was thankful. It let me think about how to get out
of this situation. “It does. I saw his mental thread tied up when he first showed up. It
reminded me of the great knot, the knot from which all knots...” “Right, right,” I cut Billy off. I didn't bother asking him why he
hadn't told me that to begin with, since I figured it had something to do with
not interfering. After a few more moments of thought, I figured now was as good
a time as any to find out the guy's plan. “Stenson!” I managed to call out. “The hell are you on about?!” Stenson turned from his work, his eyes dull and glassy as he looked at
me. His face and head twitched a few times, and now that I was paying attention
I could see the physical sign of someone having another mind work his body like
a puppet. “Subject Berg. Body shows familiarity with the threads. Subject Berg
will make perfect fuel for my body.” I didn't like the sound of that at all. “What body? You have a body! Right there, I'm talking to it! I
won't even stop you from controlling Stenson. His own damn fault for making you
in the first place!” I meant it, too. The mind and Stenson could both rest
completely comfortably in the precinct's criminal magics ward. “Subject Stenson insufficient for cleansing,” Stenson responded,
before turning back to his work. “Cleansing?! What do you mean cleansing?!” I did not like the sound of
that at all. Immediately, my mind began trying to figure out a way out of this.
The only thread of hope I had was that my feet were untied. I didn't want to
try pulling a spellboy with my hands tied, that way could easily end up with my
hand blowing off. “Self has studied human history. Humanity....is dirty. Filthy.
Humanity is heavy on the threads. Many simply tear them, no thought of proper
care. Subject Stenson has designed body for the cleansing.” Stenson said this
even as he worked on the engine. What bugged me was that the mind wasn't wrong,
exactly. There were fewer and fewer people who treated magic with the kind of
respect I was taught it deserved. Had it not been for the pesky little fact
that I was part of humanity, I might not even argue. Of course, had I not taken
this job, it wouldn't even be my problem. The world is full of 'if onlys'. “Billy,” I said as an idea finally came to me. “Can you keep me
stable, or is that too much like interfering?” The idea didn't make me
especially happy. Connecting to the threads generally involved careful rituals
to keep your mind focused so the energy didn't overcome your body. It also
required being nude, or wearing a specially made robe, so that the energy of
the threads didn't burn your clothes off while you were wearing them. However,
if you had another skilled person working with you, they could hold some of the
energy themselves, which could keep you from grabbing the threads too fast
without use of ritual tools. Didn't do anything for the clothes, however. “I can certainly keep you steady, yes,” Billy responded after a
moment. “It's just on the line, but in this particular instance, I believe I
can consider it self defense.” I bit back a question of why he hadn't considered anything
self-defense up until now, and instead closed my eyes to focus. I began to
quietly chant the proper words to focus my mind, feeling the energy of the
threads around me pulsate as I did so. For a moment, I felt my insides begin to
burn in nasty ways, but they cooled considerably as Billy began to chant. After
a few more minutes, the only burning was that of my clothing. I could feel the
heat on my skin as my skirt and blouse began to warm, and then over heat, and
then finally burst into flame. The fire caught the mind's attention. Stenson turned from his work,
looking at me curiously. For my part, I was trying not to scream in pain. The
fire lasted only for a few moments, leaving my skin pink and sore and leaving
ash riding up in uncomfortable places. I resolved to charge Percy the whole two
grand, if only to replace my blouse. I had really liked that blouse. “Subject Berg will cease her activities, or her life thread will be
cut,” Stenson spoke in that emotionless tone of his. I ignored it, instead
looking around quickly at the threads. Most of the threads through the room were the kind of threads I'd
expected to see. The threads of tools, of various metals, some older and some
newer, lay criss-crossed through the darkness. They glowed with just enough
energy to see the entire room, which made me less happy than I'd thought it
would. I'll get to that in a moment. I could see the mental command threads
stuck into Stenson's head like wires, leading off to the small grey box. Billy
had been right about one thing. The spark was beautiful. It was an intricate
lattice-work of threads, all tied and criss-crossed at angles that only a
skilled thread-worker could have fathomed. The mixture of colors and strength
could have made a half-hour TV show without anyone changing the channel. It
increased both my respect and my disgust for Percy, because it was obvious he
had a strong knowledge of how the threads worked together. The room, however, was more of a problem. I had thought originally
that the engine being worked on would need to be placed inside whatever body
Stenson had been talking about. Seeing the entire room lit up, however,
informed me that the engine was already connected. We were inside the body. “Subject Berg is not particularly scared of your threat,” I responded,
working my fingers around the rope's threads. I pulled and tugged, causing the
ropes to strain under the pressure. With a few more words of power, I drew the
strength of the thread, causing the ropes to weaken. It took only a few moments
for the thread to respond to my commands, and when that happened I let go of
the thread and yanked my arm up. The rope snapped, freeing my wrist. Stenson picked up the large tool he was holding, moving towards me
with purpose. I looked around quickly for any thread I could use while still
bound to the chair by my chest and one wrist, but nothing came immediately to
mind. Stenson had taken my gun, and anything I could do immediately would
affect me and Billy just as much as him. “Sammy! My cold charm!” Billy yelled at me. I looked around, finally
spotting the thread connected to the charm Billy had brought. As Stenson came
far too close for comfort, I grabbed the charm's command thread, activated it,
and then pointed. The charm shook and rattled on the ground as it sucked all
the heat from around Stenson's feet. In seconds, the moisture was frozen, and
Stenson tripped and fell forward thanks to the blocks of ice that had covered
his ankles. I didn't wait for Stenson to free himself. I grabbed the rope's
threads, being more forceful this time. The thread snapped from the ropes,
causing the ropes to break from around me. I then sprung to my feet, moving
across the room towards the mind. “Subject Berg will remain seated, or will have her life thread cut!”
Stenson yelled from his position on the floor. I ignored him, staring at the
mind as I attempted to figure out how to disconnect it. After another few
moments, I went for the most obvious way. I grabbed several of the threads,
tugged them free of the pedestal, and then grabbed the box. Once removed, the spark was far less beautiful than it might have been
otherwise. I could feel the nasty mental commands coming from it, trying to
latch onto my own threads. I found myself thankful that I'd taken the time to
knot my threads, otherwise I'd be in a lot more danger. “Billy! How do I shut this thing down?!” I yelled at my almost, but
not quite, completely unhelpful partner. “Only Lord Duke Count Sir Cedric Wordsworth von Londonwontonfron and
Professor Stenson have the shut down commands,” Billy said as he stood from the
chair. He was as naked as I was, but he seemed a good deal less bothered by it.
I didn't have time to contemplate my nudity, however. Stenson was busy
using his tool to break through the ice encasing his feet, the metallic edge
beating into the hard blocks and throwing ice shards everywhere. Thankfully,
the glimmering light of the threads let me see where the doors of the room
were. I moved towards the nearest one, and began to run while trying to ignore
the feeling of ashy grit in uncomfortable places. “Billy, come on!” I yelled, taking only a moment to glance back and
ensure he was following. He did, taking only a moment to grab a wrench from one
of the toolboxes before following me out the door. The spark in my hand pulsed with a nasty resonance, and I could feel
its anger and hatred in the back of my mind. I wanted to simply rip it apart,
but I didn't know what kind of affect that would have on anything. It was
already so far outside of normal magic, being a techno-magical infusion device,
that I didn't even know if carrying it was safe. The cool concrete of the storage building floor scraped the balls of
my feet as I ran, reminding me with each step of my lack of clothing. I decided
that from that moment on, I would always wear a robe over my clothing. It did
little to help me now. It also didn't help that the spark decided to start
taunting me at that point. “Why do you run, Subject Berg? Why do you fear the cleansing that
must occur?” The most annoying part was how calm and reasonable the damn
thing was trying to sound. I burst out of the building, and onto the streets of the south side.
No one seemed to care about my nudity, save a hooker at the corner who seemed
to be somewhere between concern that I'd had a trick turn violent, and annoyed
that I was taking her area. I took a second to grab nearby light threads and
push them away from my body. If I'd had time, I could have moved them in such a
way as to make it look like I was wearing clothes. As it was, the south side
would simply have to deal with a floating head running through the streets. “Sammy, I do think there's something you should know,” Billy began to
speak as he caught up with me. “That engine, and really the whole building,
seemed to be a techno-magicaly infused device.” “...What?” I stopped cold, turning back to look at the building. I
could see the threads connected to the thing, but none of them threw off any
energy that seemed weird. “You wouldn't know, Sammy. You haven't studied techno-magical
infusion. But if you look at the connections...” Billy raised his arm to point
out the details. “Don't need the details, Billy. What do we do about it?” I
couldn't keep the annoyance out of my tone. This was seriously the last thing I
wanted to deal with. “You do nothing, Subject Berg. Your life thread will be cut, and
humanity will be cleansed,” The spark sounded almost smug, which made me
wonder who the hell had programmed smugness into the thing. “Nothing until it activates,” Billy answered. “Right now, the magical
threads are dormant. Once it activates, though, you should be able to...” Billy didn't get a chance to explain what I should be able to do. The
building began to rumble, causing the ground under our feet to shake and sway.
Discretion is the better part of valor, so they say, and cowardice is the
better part of discretion, so I valiantly grabbed Billy and began to run at
full speed away from the storage building. “You can not escape, Subject Berg. Subject Stenson has been used to
feed my body. Soon, my body shall feed upon you, and my mind and my body shall
be complete. Humanity shall be devoured, and I shall usher in a new era of
cleanliness. Aren't you thrilled to be a part of this new era, Subject Berg?” The
spark's words vibrated inside my mind, not making my nude flight through the
south side any more pleasant. After about a block, I stole a glance back towards the building. The
ground around the building was beginning to lurch and rise as large shafts of
metal began to thrust upwards. The shafts soon became jointed, bending in the
middle like legs. A few moments later, the legs were pressing against the
asphalt and pushing the building up off the ground. It rose into the air like a
gigantic spider, the eight jointed shafts of metal holding the building between
them like a body. “...Why can't I ever have to break into an apartment and swipe a
necklace or something? Why do all my jobs have to end up with me ruining my
clothes while running through the south side in an attempt to keep things from
killing me?” I confess, I may have been a little frustrated. “To be fair, your last job ended up in the business district,” Billy
responded. “You are never coming out into the field again, Billy. I swear to the
ethereal overlords that I'll work with Eddie before I work with you again,” I
turned, and once again started running down the sidewalk. Behind me, I could
hear the heavy footfalls of the building moving down the street. Each footfall
caused the ground to shake under me, and I knew it was only a matter of time. “Sammy, that's just unfair.” Billy spoke in an oddly calm voice, which
only served to annoy me more. “ I never said I was coming out to work with you,
and you knew from the beginning that I have a non-interference policy. Plus, I
never cheated on you with a lounge singer.” “She was a very intense lounge singer!” I snapped, more out of
annoyance than any desire to defend my ex. I then realized that snapping at
Billy wasn't helping me any. “Billy, what can be done once the thing was
activated?” “Well, I can't tell you precisely, of course. But I don't feel it's
interfering much if I point out that you're currently holding the creature's
brain.” Billy stood on one foot, holding his arms out to balance himself. I
resisted the urge to shove him over, instead focusing on the hint he gave me. “You'll never succeed, Subject Berg,” The spark began berating
me inside my head. “I am the next evolution of magic. I am what technology
will become. You are dirty, and the cleansing is upon you.” “Would you shut up?!” I yelled at the thing, audibly. The ground
rumbled from another step of the magi-mechanical spider creature, and I
stumbled before catching myself. “I don't have to shut up, Subject Berg. You will be devoured. Your
life thread will be cut.” It spoke with a tone devoid of any emotion but
smugness. Needless to say, that only served to piss me off even more. “Know what? I'm gonna find the thread that lets you talk, and I'm
gonna...” the lightbulb went off as the ground shook underneath me once again.
Why had I not thought of that before? I had the thing's brain, I was connected
to the threads, there was no logical reason why I couldn't affect the thing. “Hey Billy. Still got that cold charm?” “Rightie-o!” Billy placed the small blue gem into my hand. “Subject Berg will cease her activities. She will be devoured,”
The spark wasn't impressing me any longer. I threw the grey box to the ground
as hard as possible, and then activated the cold charm. I saw the threads
shimmer and sparkle as the charm once again drew all the heat away from its
target, and in moments the gray box was encased in a block of ice. As I'd hoped, as soon as the box was encased in ice the
magi-mechanical spider stopped moving. It wobbled, swaying with the breeze, and
then fell with a crash. The ground shook and shuddered under my feet, and the
building that made up the creature's body crashed into a strip mall. By now,
people were out in the streets, screaming and running in terror. Their shouts
and cries almost managed to drown out the police sirens. About time they got
there. * * * “So you just happened to be in the area?” The officer looked at me
incredulously. I didn't blame him. I'd stopped connecting to the threads, but
the light threads were still moved away from my body. I didn't know what it was
like to talk to a floating head, but the idea made me giggle. “Doing a finding for a client. The brain thing there in ice said it
wanted to use me to fuel the spider thing. I guess it needed someone with
magical residue in the blood to...” I stopped myself, realizing that I was
sounding like Billy. “Anyway, doesn't matter why. I connected to the threads,
got myself free, stole the brain, and ran. Figured out to encase it in a cold
charm right as you guys finally showed up.” The cop made a few more notes in his notebook, before looking back at
the giant building turned spider. He shook his head, closed his notebook, and
looked back up at me. “I find out you had more of a hand in this than that, Berg, and I'll
throw the book at you myself.” As if to emphasize his point, he shook his
notepad at me. “Right, right, I got it. Can I go now?” I wasn't particularly
concerned. For the most part, I'd been completely honest with the guy. Short of
telling him about my client, I'd given him all the information as it had
happened. “Yeah, get out of here.” The cop waved his hand in dismissal, before
turning and heading over to talk with other uniformed people. For my part, I
turned and began walking away. “You didn't tell him about Lord Duke Count Sir Cedric Wordsworth von
Londonwontonfron,” Billy said in a questioning tone as he caught up with me. He
was still completely nude, as if the idea of clothing was something that
happened to other people. “No, I didn't,” I said, the words a bit more terse than I'd meant. “Any particular reason? You'd have been well within your rights. He
was breaking the law.” Billy's tone suggested he was more curious than
anything. Knowing him, he probably was. It likely didn't matter to him one way
or another if Percy went to jail. “Well, two reasons. One, as much as it disgusts me, the guy probably
really was trying to do some good. He did it in the stupidest way possible, but
I guess these things happen.” I shrugged my shoulders casually, even though
Billy couldn't see me. “That's fair. What was the other reason?” “If I turned him in, how would I get my other two grand?” I snorted.
Billy really should know me better by now. Read more stories by this author 2012-02-05 06:56:15 funny as hell - great one. ![]() | Home | Editorial | Submissions | News | ![]() |
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