Chapter 3
“Only One But Others Too”
The Red Dusk Hotel was a reputable establishment which offered reliable security for its guests. Unfortunately, they were in no position to flagrantly break the law. Officers arrived with a warrant for the arrest of Gertrude Yellow the Frugal. Red Dusk security verified that the order was indeed signed by all three administrators of the Administrative Triad. They surrendered their guest into the custody of the officers.
Aloof Amity came into the office of the Confederate Administrator. “Yes?” he looked up from whatever he was writing.
“Sir, an arrest warrant was issued from this office. I am your secretary: why did it not go through me?”
“Miss Amity, you are not the only secretary of this office.”
“I am your personal secretary. I handle all documents which require your personal signature. Sir, am I being replaced?”
Wayward Calm chuckled. He assured his secretary, “Miss Amity, I do not blame you for the mishap concerning Nefarious Good. The warrant was written by the office of the Imperial Administrator. I signed it during a friendly visit.” The female stared at the male. Mr. Calm assured, “Miss Amity, you retain my full confidence.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Morality’s Cabaret: A male Mystic stood upon the main stage. He spoke into a wand that served as a microphone, “Casting a spell is like breathing: there is a problem if you stop doing so prematurely.” The human patrons rolled their eyes or shook their heads. The Mystics, Penumbran and those of a few of other races chuckled. The comedian continued, “Summoning energy for a spell is like masturbating: the taxing labor is the fun of it.” The Mystics and Penumbran laughed. The few humans still listening were disgusted. “Magic is better than technology… because it is as sensual and painful as romance and coitus.” The comedian feigned thinking. He corrected himself, “Technology is better than magic… because it does all the work for you. It is like sexual relations with a human female.” This latest comment received both cheers and heckling.
A female Mystic came into the cabaret, the hood of her robe kept up. She strolled past the many patrons and waitresses. She beheld the bald, naked little humans dancing on stages, some of them swinging on poles. No music played but colorful lights flickered in a rhythm the dancing matched.
The hooded Mystic was not invisible yet none could see her. She mingled, careful not to bump into anyone. She waved her hand, blessing the hapless little slave waitresses and dancers. It saddened her to see so many of so many races enjoying themselves while being served and entertained by the unfortunate. These exploited clones were human. Were humans not sentient creatures? How were they less than those they served?
Nefarious Good was a hero. He defended the weak and avenged the wronged. He was on a quest to avenge one such as the girls now dancing. Aloof Amity would do what she could to aid him in this noble cause. She had to find him, to tell him what she knew. He had to know… before it was too late.
Aloof Amity jumped and squeaked when grabbed by the shoulder! The melodious voice of one of her own people she did not know whispered into her ear, “You feel too strongly and think too loudly to remain hidden. Please come with me.” The bouncer brought Miss Amity into a backroom to meet his boss.
Wanton Morality stared at the seated female of his own kind. His bouncer reported, “She was hiding and divining among our staff and patrons.”
Mr. Morality asked the female, “Did you not read the sign before entering my establishment?”
Aloof quavered, “I meant no harm. I was seeking a friend.”
“Seeking a friend? Who is this friend that you felt inclined to hide as you sought him?”
Aloof closed her eyes and pointed a palm at Wanton Morality. His bouncer moved to stop her but Mr. Morality shook his head for him not to bother. The female lowered her hand and opened her eyes. She told Wanton, “My friend is Nefarious Good.”
Gertrude Yellow was charged with grand larceny but was released on a bond made by someone other than herself or her sisters. She was actually and unofficially released into the custody of Simon Fink’s private security forces. The hood of the robed Concubine Merchant was already pulled back as she was brought into a warehouse and roughly sat in a chair. “Hello,” a man’s voice greeted from the shadows.
“Mr. Fink,” Gertrude recognized.
The Jingoan in a gray suit nodded as he approached, accompanied by a robed Mystic and robed Delver. Simon Fink lifted the Concubine’s face by her chin and stared into the black, contracting pupils of her white eyes. The man asked the woman, “Where’s my black lotus?”
“Black lotus?”
“Yeah. You ghostly-eyed baldies are smart girls: cloned from the finest human genes. You study everything, right? I’m sure you’ve heard of black lotus.”
The Concubine stated, “Black lotus is an herb native to the moon Mystique and is used for divination.”
“Yeah. Where is my black lotus?”
Gertrude reminded, “Black lotus is illegal in the Greater Humanity Empire.”
Mr. Fink slapped Miss Yellow! She sniffled. He rolled his eyes…and slapped her again. “Bitch, where’s my lotus?!”
The woman choked, “I don’t know. I didn’t know you had any.”
“It was in the truck your boy stole. Where is it?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know anything about it.”
Simon looked about, telling everyone, “She doesn’t know anything about it. She doesn’t know anything about it!” He laid his hands on Miss Yellow’s shoulders and leaned up to her face. He glared into her eyes, warning her, “If you’re no use to me… then what am I going to do with you?”
“Please,” the woman sobbed. “I’ll find Mr. Good and tell him to give it back to you.”
“Find him? You don’t know where he is?”
The bald woman shook her head, explaining, “He told me he’d contact me when the job was done.”
“Oh, his job is done!” Simon stepped away and huddled with Malicious Virtue and Lord Clang. The human asked the Mystic, “Is she lying or keeping anything from me?”
Mr. Virtue shook his head. He told Mr. Fink, “It is to be expected that Mr. Good would minimize the involvement of his client.”
“Will he give me back my lotus if she tells him to?”
“Simon, do you wonder if Nefarious Good may abandon his client? Do you fear he may sell the black lotus for his own profit?”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
Malicious Virtue chuckled. He reminded, “Nefarious Good is not human.”
“Did you just make a racial slur?”
Mr. Virtue smirked, “Did I say something untrue?”
Lord Clang joined, in the deep, gruff voice of his race, “Trust must be bought. Let us make the purchase to profit us all.”
Simon Fink assured, “Oh, I love you guys. I really do. I trust you both as much as I do my own people: seriously.” Malicious Virtue chuckled, genuinely fond of this rude and treacherous yet amusing little human. Something about Simon Fink was somehow endearing.
Gertrude Yellow watched the three merchants chat amongst themselves. What would they decide? Were they going to kill her? One of the human guards winked at her and squeezed his groin, threatening her with the lewd gesture. The Delver mercenary Spark Prime stared at her as if she were something he simply wanted to smash or splatter. Why was she the enemy? All she wanted was her property back. Gertrude wept, fearful and ashamed. “Miss Yellow,” she heard the friendly, melodious voice of Nefarious Good, “close your eyes.” An orb of silvery crystal with an opaque core suddenly rolled out in front of her. The woman closed her eyes.
A silent flash suddenly turned everything into a swirl of every color! No one could hear or see anyone else. Everyone felt a rush of tingling dizziness. “Wow!” Simon Fink enjoyed the sensation. He struggled to remember w
hat he was doing. “Hey!” he noticed his prisoner was no longer in her chair. The spell dissipated as quickly as it came. “Where is she?!”
The guards looked about. Malicious Virtue picked up a crystal orb black with swirling smoke. “Nefarious Good,” he realized.
“What is that thing?” Simon asked about the orb.
“Simon, your prisoner and her hireling are escaping. I suggest you find and kill them.”
“Kill? I need them to find my black lotus.”
“My friend, I am a necromancer. I need only their bodies.”
Mr. Fink barked at his guards, “Find and kill them both!”
Spark Prime was armed with a magical artifice that fired blasts of ionized particles. The device was a shotgun, of a sort, but not of human design or make. A life-sensor artifice was attached to the weapon and already calibrated to detect Mystic auras. The Delver mercenary grinned. He pointed in among the stacks of crates within the warehouse, telling the human guards he commanded, “Twenty-two paces and moving towards the back.”
The kinetic shield talismans worn by Mystics emanated seven layers of protection within twenty meters. The closer an assailant approached the wearer, the fewer layers of shielding. At two meters, the talisman was utterly useless. Spark Prime and his men knew to get in close and blaze away with extreme prejudice.
Nefarious Good wore a greater talisman of the highest quality, but it would be of little use in the confines of this warehouse. Its shielding was centered on him, thus,