Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (36 page)

     That was too easy. What? Ah! That’s when it hit me. Dew had been keying De Vorto up. She wasn’t giving up! Not Dew! I looked at De Vorto and wondered if I should say something different, something that would change things. I didn’t have the words for it. I got up and walked off. Dew hung back to say a couple of words to De Vorto, and then hurried to catch up with me.

     “Smile,” she said half-kindly. “You aren’t dead yet.”

     “Way things are going,” I replied, looking at her as we walked along, “I guess we’re doomed to go out together, one way or another.”

     “Gee, Slick,” Dew retorted, “that has to be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

     I couldn’t help but smile at that. I really did like this girl.

Amra

     Glasgow was better than Goa. It had a CCC office, and I could teleport right in. This was civilisation. I had a team waiting for me, and more importantly, no Kermit. I had managed to make good time. “So what do you have?” I asked the bland woman who was leading the CCC team here. She was a definite improvement on my last local liaison though. Far less aggravating.

     “We have set up teleport traces all over Skye, ma’am, as per your instructions.”

     Deferential. Obedient. Just how I liked my subordinates. Why couldn’t they all be like that?

     “Good.” I took the report from her hand to see all the measures they had put in place. All the boxes were ticked. This was an all-out manhunt. Teleport traces, CM alarms, liaison agents working with the norm legal system, bringing in their resources to bear as well. This woman was definitely a lot more competent than she looked!

     “We have reports of sightings on Skye, and have sent the norm cops to try and flush out the quarry. We should be looking at results pretty soon.” She spoke the words in a slow, irritating cadence. I focussed on the content, and was again pleasantly surprised.

     “Good job,” I said, even considering giving her a little pat for a moment. But I didn’t do physical contact, and so dropped the idea. “So you’ve considered the possibility of them going norm?”

     “Them, ma’am?” she asked, the daft blandness on her face taking a turn for the worse. 

     “Yes, them,” I said, wondering why that part had been confusing.

     “Do you want to apprehend Zyx as well, ma’am?” she asked.

     “Zyx?” I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

     “Yes, I believe she might be around Silvus. There was a spook report on Skye. Things are getting exciting there.” Again the slow speech. Only this time, the content didn’t make much sense, and it did begin to irritate me.

     “Silvus?” I asked again, wondering where the disconnect was.

     “Yes, ma’am,” she said patiently, speaking to me like I was slow in the head. “We are confident of helping you apprehend Silvus.”

     “I am not looking for Silvus,” I said, a little blankly, wondering why this woman was running 48 hours behind schedule.

     “You are not looking for Silvus?” she repeated. This was apparently too much for her to absorb.

     “You stupid cow,” I snapped, losing it finally. “Get an info update from central HQ and send out the new information to all your agents. Now!”

     She looked at me in shock, her mouth opening and closing. I made a threatening movement toward her. She squeaked and with a little hop, turned and fled the room.

     There was no hope. If I had to get this right, I would have to do this myself. And I knew just what I needed to do.

CHAPTER 17

Come to My Parlour

A dash of wilderness

A pinch of adventure

A hint of danger

And a measure of mystery

Stir well my friend

You have a weave-worthy tale

Slick

     I sat and stared at the wall. It was night again, and I was in a little café on the outskirts of Glasgow, sitting at the corner table facing the wall. I was waiting for the telepathic missive from Dew that would tell me it was time to go.

     Getting to the mainland from Skye proved to be a cinch, with a direct bus over the bridge connecting the island to the rest of Scotland. It was nice to take a bus ride with Dew. I had done most of my traveling alone, and it was a refreshing experience to have such pretty company. Dew was a hell of a lot more than pretty company, and I was definitely beginning to go soft on her. We had pretended like we were two regular youngsters on a trip together, and knew nothing about death or apocalyptic endings. We spoke about the little things, like our common dream of backpacking through Europe (which, in a strange way, we just might end up doing now) and how we were completely different in some ways (obsessive planner versus impulsive hitchhiker). We talked about things like family and friends.

     There had been an uncomfortable moment when she had asked me about my real name. After considering lying for a moment, I came clean with her. It took her five attempts to get it right and say it all together, after which she burst out laughing. “I can see why you stick with Slick,” she said with a wink, and left it at that. Yeah, that was always awkward. But for that, the rest of the trip was lovely. We had reached mainland without incident. We did see a lot of cops around, but a gentle mental probe showed that they were looking for a thickset man with silver grey hair. Dew said that it sounded like the Silvus manhunt was still the focus of the CCC and the norm police. It was strange thinking of cops as the ‘norm police.’ I had crossed over to another world. It did feel quite weird.

     But for better or for worse, the heat wasn’t on us yet. I couldn’t complain. I’d had enough heat for a lifetime, and didn’t mind spending a low-profile life for the rest of my tick-tocking days. If I did blow up, I wanted to blow up after a happy, fulfilling few weeks. I didn’t want to spend the last days of my life scrambling around desperately.

     We split up on the mainland. The plan was that she would arrange for a car and I would meet her at the bus stop. I would wait at the café around the corner in the meanwhile. I didn’t like it but it was the only option. We couldn’t continue leaving a public transport trail. 

     I leaned back in the tiny café chair, trying to get comfortable. Harsh, bright lights and chrome furniture that was hard, cold and extremely uncomfortable. Not the best place to be in, but I had to lie low.

     I sensed someone enter the café and turned to see who it was. A man had entered, and he didn’t really look like a local. He went to the waiter and started talking to him. In an instant, my spidey sense came alive. Whatever played the role of a spidey sense in my pseudo-superhero life that is; the power, the presence, the wormhole in my head. Call it what you will; it came alive. This man was trouble. I hadn’t ordered anything and didn’t need to pay so walked straight out. Even as I stepped out of the café, I sensed that the man had turned and was following me. Things were going to get exciting, again!

     I walked in the direction of the bus stop I had come from. Dew would come there when the time was right. I had to lose my pursuer by then. Make that pursuers. There were two of them now. No, three. Oh God, there were four. They were converging from different directions, and the way they were moving, it was clear that they wanted to stop me, and not just follow me. For a second I considered running, and then I stopped. What the heck, I could do this.

     I turned around, and saw the four guys slow down. They all looked official, like secret agents. Men in dark suits, if not actually black. I guess this was my first brush with the CCC. I knew they weren’t wordsmiths, but in some ways, they were supposed to be worse. They were scape resistant and what not. I wondered what to do. They had fanned out and were approaching me very cautiously. I was the dangerous one here. They definitely believed that. I just had to believe it myself.

     My mind was strangely blank and no ideas came to me. I looked around for inspiration. A dark, isolated road with nothing around, the café I’d just left in the distance, and nothing behind me but a long walk to the bus stop. No inspiration.

     One of the guys pulled out a short rod. The others did the same. They meant violence.

     “Mr. Slick, we recommend you give yourself up without resistance. We promise you safe...”

     I had a feeling they would act before the guy finished speaking. I saw all of them moving their thin rods in a specific pattern, and sensed something building. It was a trap. I didn’t let the guy finish speaking. I closed my eyes, and cleared my head even as the guy started speaking. I needed to stop them, not kill them. This should be easy.

From air and earth

From stone and steel

Rise to do my bidding

Bind but do not kill

Restrain and do not let go

     I opened my eyes to see ragged ropes appearing out of nowhere, tough tendrils closing around the guys. The guy that was speaking had been gagged before he could complete his sentence. I saw their thin rods connected with some kind of an energy pulse. It was stuttering now as they were bound tightly, their hands unable to complete whatever moves they’d been trying. In a couple of moments, it was over. Four tightly wrapped packages lay on the road. I let them be and walked off.

     I could control this, I kept telling myself. Everything depended on it. Everything!

     I reached the bus stop and saw a Mustang parked there. Dew! She had found transportation after all. I wondered why she hadn’t called for me to come. Had I blocked her out when I had been weaving there? Had she figured I had been weaving again? Was she angry with me again? Only one way to find out. I was impressed though. She had gone off with a vague promise to find transportation, and had come back with a Mustang!

     I opened the passenger door and got in.

     “Good choice,” I said, as I turned to face her.

     “I’m glad you approve,” the reply came back, the voice unfamiliar.

     I looked into the eyes of a short, handsome woman with thick eyebrows. Before I could say a word or even think, she jammed a rod into my throat. I tried blocking the blow, but she was just too fast for me. For one searing moment I felt intense pain as a bolt from the rod wracked my throat. And then, everything blacked out.

Amra

     I had the bastard. Not Kermit, not anyone else. Me! I’d caught him fair and square. And the girl too! The other CCC agents had been a good distraction. I would have to send word for them to be released. I’d seen what he had done. He was good, he was fast. I was just better, faster. Wordscapist indeed! 72 hours and he was down!

     I checked him for a pulse. He was alive. I had hit him right in the throat, taking him out before he could weave up anything. Now, with his vocal chords gone and his face paralysed, he was harmless as a new born babe. I would use the fine old blend of torture and telepathy, and get all the information I needed. The Lirii missive had been useful, and helped me prepare for this better. The other freak, De Vorto, was still out there. He’d be trickier to catch, being in some kind of weird semi-corporeal state. Well, I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

     I flattened out the seat and pushed him back to join the girl. She was knocked out too, similarly debilitated. I leaned over and put standard restrainers on the both of them. They wouldn’t be waking any time soon, but I liked to ensure everything was doubly safe. Once that was done, I started the car. Time for the fun part.

     We weren’t far from the local CCC bureau, and I drove fast. Once there, I would start on these two and figure out exactly what had been happening all along. In a port-safe cell, with a Corps Interrogator on hand, even the toughest would talk. Once I had wrapped this one up, I would go and get Silvus. He had already been spotted, and couldn’t be far away. There had been reports of the Free Word congregating nearby too. This boy was drawing them all like flies. Might as well catch the whole lot. With a whole load of wordsmith riffraff eliminated, life would get a whole lot more pleasant very soon. And with the Lirii happy, I could look forward to some kind of a move up the career ladder as well. I might even make it to Yen sometime in the future.

     With these pleasant thoughts keeping me busy, I reached the bureau in no time. I asked for the two to be transferred to a cell. I needed to ensure that they could not port out. Once that was done, I could leisurely work on getting all the information I needed to close the case.

     While the CCC team saw to their transfer, I took the opportunity to go take a long shower and change into clean clothes. I had been skipping around the world, looking for this freak. I needed to catch up on sleep too, but that could wait. I had seen what the local teams were capable of when left to themselves. I would have to close this one myself.

     I looked at myself in the mirror as I got dressed. I looked stressed and haggard. I had dark circles and some fresh grey strands. Work was getting too stressful. I needed to close the loose ends and move onto bigger things. The wordsmiths on this plane didn’t rate very high on the overall Continuum hazard scale. But while they continued to pose problems, I would be stuck here cleaning up after them. The boy was the latest addition to a long list of aggravations. I had had enough, and would start cleaning up, beginning with him.