The Shadow Fixer Page 23

  “No.” He pointed at the disturbed hovercar traffic. “People jumping when the lights come on.”

  “You enjoy scaring people? Sounds like someone’s been a ghost too long.” Kirsten shook her head, though chuckled.

  “Look at it the other way. Once they realize we’re not after them, they feel great.” He gestured at the ‘window’ to his right. “Besides. We did them a favor. Helped them stay awake. You know, I bet in the days before hovercars existed, people used to daydream about how thrilling and exciting it would be to fly to work every day.”

  “Few things are as boring as sitting in a hover lane for half an hour with nothing to do but wait for the car to finish driving itself where we want to go.”

  “Those people agree with you. Wouldn’t have swerved if they’d been on automatic.” Dorian whistled innocently.

  She rolled her eyes and accelerated toward the nav point.

  “Mayoshi Technologies owns an entire century tower in Sector 3150,” said Evan. “The company started in Japan but they have offices in the UCF and on Mars. They make cosmetic cyberware, mostly cat stuff.”

  Kirsten groaned mentally. “What are you doing?”

  “Bored,” said Evan. “Looking on the GlobeNet. Since we’re going there, you might wanna know.”

  “I wanna get cat ears like her,” chimed Shani, pointing at the screen of Evan’s datapad.

  “Why?” asked Kirsten, still baffled as to what could possibly make anyone want big floppy ears or a tail.

  “They’re cute.” Shani laughed.

  Dorian shrugged. “I don’t get the appeal of it either.”

  “Mom?” asked Evan.

  Kirsten braced for an awkward question, dreading he looked at a picture of a naked woman with cat ears. “Yes?”

  “Why do they call them century towers? Are they a hundred years old?”

  Relief rolled off her in waves. “Oh, umm. Most are even older. I think they call them that because they made so many identical buildings all exactly a hundred stories tall. Most of the residence towers are essentially the same inside.”

  “Century tower sounds cooler than ‘hundred story high-rise’,” said Dorian.

  Evan laughed.

  * * *

  Kirsten set the patrol craft down on the roof of the Mayoshi Technologies building.

  A scattering of hovercars remained in the parking area, which took up the entire roof plus one story down except for the small structure near the middle housing the elevators. She shut the drive system off and got out, hesitating at the idea of bringing the kids with her to an active scene. Still, they’d been through worse already. Evan had a front-row seat to Seneschal and his friends trying to kill her—and smashed one himself using the patrol craft.

  Shani hadn’t been involved in anything demonic, though she had evaded a bunch of gang punks angry at Evan for humiliating them. Sitting in the back seat of an armored PC while she chased a nuisance ghost shouldn’t be too dangerous.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Call me if anything weird happens.”

  Evan puffed out his chest. “Call me if you need backup.”

  Dorian laughed.

  Sighing, Kirsten shut the car door and jogged to the elevator. “What, no welcoming committee?”

  “It is oddly quiet here.” Dorian slowed, looking around at the roof.

  “Dispatch,” said Kirsten, triggering a soft beep from her earpiece. “What’s the situation at the Mayoshi building? Looks quiet.”

  “The caller mentioned bots going crazy, but the line dropped before they gave much detail,” replied Specialist Wiley.

  “How did this end up coming my way? There are a hundred explanations for bots going nuts other than a ghost.”

  “Umm.” Specialist Wiley hesitated. “The video call made it kinda obvious. An apparition appeared behind the woman who called and physically dragged her away from the terminal.”

  Kirsten and Dorian exchanged an ‘uh oh’ glance.

  The elevator door opened, revealing a small Japanese woman in an all-black security uniform curled up in a ball, trembling, shielding her face with a short vibro-sword. Blood smeared the wall behind her from a relatively minor injury to her left arm.

  “Hey…” Kirsten rushed into the elevator and crouched beside her. “You’re okay now. It’s gonna be all right.”

  “I’ve never been shot at before,” said the woman in a voice far less emotional than she appeared to be. “The dead are here.”

  “Drawing a sword is perhaps not the wisest response to gunfire.” Dorian gestured at the handgun on the woman’s belt.

  Kirsten examined the woman’s arm. A few inches below the shoulder, she’d suffered a grazing wound. Despite having a stimpak case on her belt, she hadn’t used one. She’s in shock. “Look at me.”

  The woman made eye contact.

  “You’re safe now. The spirit can’t hurt you while you’re with me. I’m Kirsten. Tell me your name.”

  “Satomi.” She swallowed. “Satomi Ito. Security officer. You’re the psionic cops?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, shit. Finally.” Satomi uncurled, sitting slouched on the floor of the elevator, almost falling over sideways. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  Distant rapid gunfire went off far below.

  “Idiots,” said Dorian. “Are they really trying to shoot a ghost?”

  “What’s with the sword?” Kirsten gestured at it.

  Satomi looked at her like she asked why the sky appeared blue. “It’s a restless spirit. Everyone knows guns aren’t effective. Swords can hurt them since they channel a person’s inner energy into the attack. I read online. Even you guys carry swords.”

  “Sometimes. Not sure how effective they are without astral binding, but probably better than a gun on a spirit. What can you tell me about the situation downstairs?”

  “I saw the ghost on the security system. He appeared in random rooms, going up or down a dozen floors in an instant.”

  “On camera?” asked Dorian, eyebrows up.

  “Did he show up on normal video or only thermal?”

  “Both.” Satomi winced, finally appearing to realize she’d been hit. She pulled a stimpak out of her belt case. “Didn’t see a face. Looked like a shadow on the display. Security bots went nuts, started shooting randomly at everyone.”

  “Shit,” muttered Kirsten. “How many dead?”

  “I don’t know. We tried to shut them all down, but some wouldn’t deactivate. The orbs spun in circles, firing constantly like they weren’t trying to hit anyone on purpose, just do damage to the building.”

  “Where’s the shooting coming from now?” asked Kirsten.

  Satomi pushed herself up to stand, staring into space as if reading a nonexistent video display, probably cybernetic eyes or an optic nerve interface. “Fifty-eighth floor offices.”

  Dorian poked the button for the elevator.

  “Whoa. How did you do that?” asked Satomi.

  “My partner is a spirit.”

  Satomi looked at her. “Oh. Cool.”

  “Yeah, he is. Literally.” Kirsten whistled.

  Dorian shook his head.

  Seconds after the elevator passed the fifty-ninth floor, a bullet punched a hole in the door. Kirsten and Satomi flattened themselves against the sides. Two more shots holed the doors before they slid open, letting smoke in. Rapid gunshots continued in the corridor, like someone firing a handgun as fast as they could click the trigger.

  Dorian, standing there in the open, raised an arm.

  A metallic thud followed, along with the cessation of gunfire.

  “Orb bot. It’s down,” said Dorian.

  Kirsten peered around the side of the door into a hazy, smoke-filled hallway. Small flecks of glass and metal debris sparkled atop blue grey carpet. Continuous swearing in a man’s whispery voice came from the vicinity of two small fires burning about fifty feet ahead. She couldn’t make out much visually due to the smoke but sensed a ghostly p
resence about where the grumbling originated.

  “Stupid, useless piece of shit, come on,” grumbled the ghost.

  Satomi followed her out of the elevator, clutching her small sword in both hands. The woman still appeared frightened, but a surface thought scan revealed she felt safer near Kirsten than alone in the elevator, even if it meant approaching the angry spirit.

  Having an adult not only happy to see a psionic but regard her as a ‘protector’ offered a welcome change from the usual fear, suspicion, or derision she so often faced from the general public. Satomi’s comment about swords implied a level of familiarity with spirits. Sadly, the woman had no psionic talents.

  Kirsten advanced down the corridor, not bothering to pull the E-90 out, keeping her hand free for a lash if needed. Dorian walked on her left, Satomi on the right but mostly hiding behind her. As she drew closer, a human figure appeared out of the smoke, kicking at a dead orb bot the size of a gee-ball. A white shirt and nice pants gave him the look of corporate management. Grey had started to seep into his brown hair, whitening patches above his ears.

  “Junk. Why do they buy such junk?” grumbled the ghost.

  “Hey,” called Kirsten. “I need you to calm down, okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

  The ghost glanced in their direction for a moment, but resumed abusing the non-functional orb bot.

  “Yes, I can see you.” Kirsten edged closer. “I’m talking to the spirit kicking the bot.”

  He glared at her. “The damned thing stopped working.”

  “I shut it down.” Dorian walked toward the man at a fast, deliberate stride. “Can’t let you throw bullets at people.”

  The ghost glared at Dorian, raised his fists over his head, and let out an enraged scream.

  Fire sprinklers went off, spraying frigid water everywhere. Kirsten tensed, stunned by the shock of a sudden, icy shower.

  Satomi shrieked, arching her back.

  Dorian leapt at the spirit, who dove into the floor to avoid the tackle. Dorian chased.

  Kirsten sighed, not bothering to try shielding her face from the downpour. “This is going to be one of those ghosts.”

  A moment later, Satomi reached both hands up, parting the hair away from her face like a theater curtain. “The spirit’s on the forty-second floor.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Jun in the control station sees them on thermal. Your partner and the bad spirit are fist-fighting in the break room. Another orb is shooting up the cubicles down the hall from them.”

  Kirsten nodded, and ran to the elevator. At least it’s not raining in here.

  Satomi rushed after, yelling at someone to turn off the fire system.

  They exchanged a glance. Satomi hit the button for the forty-second floor. For a brief moment, a sense of camaraderie came over Kirsten, being with a fellow member of the Short Girl Society, or the Five-Oh club as Nicole called it. Her friend thought it hilarious since Five-O had been an old slang term for police and Kirsten happened to be exactly five feet tall.

  “How many are wounded or dead?” asked Kirsten.

  “158 people suffered injuries. Somehow, no one died.” Satomi reached out at thin air as if pushing buttons on a giant computer screen.

  Kirsten squirmed at the thought of the woman having cybernetic implants in her head or eyes. “I don’t think the ghost is trying to kill anyone. He’s having a meltdown.”

  “Yes. I think you are right.” Satomi nodded. “The shooting started in crowded offices but aimed high. He’s destroying computers, furniture, and expensive equipment.”

  “Satomi?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to send you a telepathic image, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Kirsten concentrated on the image of the spirit, projecting it into the woman’s mind. “Do you recognize him?”

  “Wow. He looks like a normal person. Is he the ghost?”

  “Yes. They look ordinary to me. If I couldn’t sense their energy, I’d never know they were ghosts just from looking at them.”

  “That’s pretty cool. The apartment where I grew up was haunted, but the ghost was nice. Little old lady, just lonely. Umm, no, I don’t recognize him. You think he used to work here?”

  “Possible. Last time I had to deal with a ghost shooting up a corporate office, he’d been upset with the company and came back for revenge.”

  “Checking.”

  The elevator doors opened.

  Kirsten ran into a deserted hallway. Traces of blood spattered the walls here and there. Smashed windows, broken electronics, and a few burning bots cluttered the corridor. It appeared the company had evacuated everyone already. Distant gunfire led Kirsten through a series of hallways and security doors—most of which lay in shattered pieces. She stopped short at a flurry of sparking ricochets hitting the floor at an intersection.

  Back pressed to the wall, she edged up to the corner. Bullets continued to hit the floor less than three feet away from her. She didn’t like her odds of hitting an orb bot, but still drew her E-90 as well as NetMini.

  “Suri, link and display.”

  “You didn’t say please,” replied the AI in a somewhat whiny tone.

  “Not now, Suri. Bullets are flying.”

  “Okay… okay…” The AI overacted a sigh, then opened a holo-panel above the device showing the view from the E-90’s optical sight.

  Kirsten stuck the laser pistol around the corner, watching the floating screen above the NetMini. Another twelve-inch orb bot floated in the middle of the hallway about forty feet away, spinning in circles while firing at nothing in particular. Experienced soldiers often struggled to shoot orb bots out of the air, but this one sat still in midair.

  She lined up the crosshairs on the holo-panel and clicked the trigger.

  A dark azure beam flickered in the thin haze of smoke from the ballistic propellant. Tiny spurts of molten metal shot out from both sides of the bot, which promptly thudded to the ground and caught fire. A hundred feet down the hall, a small flame indicated where the beam hit the wall.

  Satomi stared at the E-90 the same adoring way Shani stared at unicorn toys.

  She holstered it, stuffed the NetMini back in its clip on her belt, and rushed into the hall. “Thanks, Suri.”

  The NetMini chirped happily.

  “Thirty-eight!” yelled Satomi.

  Kirsten looked at her.

  “They went down again. This way!” Satomi ran off.

  Kirsten followed her to another elevator. Heavy, thudding gunfire echoed up from below, growing louder as they descended four floors. The doors parted to another hallway hazed with smoke and dust from pulverized drywall. She winced at the loudness of the machine gun and intermittent explosions. Dorian ran across the corridor from right to left, about a hundred yards away. Seconds later, the ‘manager ghost’ dashed left to right, Dorian right behind him.

  A footlocker-sized bot backed out of a doorway on miniature tank treads, still offloading bullets from a long-barreled machine gun into the room. Kirsten pulled the E-90 and shot the security bot repeatedly until it stopped firing and burst into flames. The relative quiet in the absence of gunfire felt like a hug from the universe.

  The manager ghost again darted across the hallway, Dorian right behind him.

  Kirsten sprinted after them, passing a large room of shot-up computer components. Satomi stopped at the door, peering in while she likely reported the fire to the security over her implanted comm. At the first intersection, Kirsten cornered to the right, following the sounds of a brawl to the third door, which led to a large room of cubicles.

  Dorian and the manager spirit tumbled over each other on the floor. Her partner had the advantage in training, but the ghost made up for it with greater physical strength. He slipped away and started to lunge to his feet. Dorian sprang after him, jumping on his back, taking him to the floor again.

  Grumbling, Kirsten summoned the lash, swiping it at the manager ghost in an underpower
ed strike, hoping to slap reason back into his mind rather than tear him apart. The energy cord scorched a burn trail up the ghost’s chest and over his face.

  He screamed, pawing at the spot; the distraction enabled Dorian to get a better grip, though pain compliance grapples didn’t work too well on ectoplasm.

  “Fuck’s sake!” shouted the manager ghost. “Don’t do that!”

  “Stop running around blowing shit up!” Kirsten pointed the lash at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m angry!”

  “Obviously.” She stared at him. “Why?”

  The rage somewhat melted out of his expression. “I dunno. I’m just pissed off and want to mess shit up.”

  “Did you used to work for Mayoshi?”

  “No, I hate mayo. Mustard all the way.”

  “Guess not.” Dorian dragged the guy upright, still holding him.

  “Since when do the damn cops care what the hell ghosts do?” grumbled the spirit.

  “Since you endanger people’s lives.” Kirsten walked right up to him.

  He squirmed, instinctively trying to retreat from the energy cord. “What’s up with the glowing death noodle?”

  “It’s a weapon I really don’t like having to use.” Kirsten paused, watching the mild slice in his ectoplasmic form seal up. “Ghosts don’t go to prison. If I can’t talk them down or solve their issues, and they remain a threat to people…”

  “Okay, okay.” He held his hands up. “I get it.”

  Satomi ran in the door. “Whoa. He’s right in front of you.”

  The manager appeared as solid as any other living person, so he couldn’t have manifested to the living. Whenever a ghost did so, Kirsten’s perception of them changed to ghostly transparency. She eyed the other woman, peeking at her surface thoughts. Satomi saw a light orb hovering where the manager ghost stood.

  “Yeah. Give me a moment.” Kirsten looked back at him. “Why are you tearing this office apart? Grudge?”

  “Nah. I died long before this place went up. Just got so angry I needed to vent.”

  “What made you so angry?”

  He grabbed his hair in both hands. “The noise. The damn noise…”

  “This again,” said Dorian.