1.
“So, it's all finished. The contract has been fulfilled,” the tall man with the #44 tattoo declared, “your materials have been recovered, and I've been given my time. Now, for the last bit of your payment.”
Victor nodded, and didn't get out of the leather chair he sat in. Laplace stood to one side of him, and Rene on the other. The artificial demoniacs kept their faces placid, and their eyes fixed on the tattooed man.
“Very well, Marquis. Thank you for your aid,” Victor said, sensing it was his turn to speak, “Rene, bring our guest the 'wire' we promised him.”
Rene, a young man wearing a suit in the same cut that Maxwell had before going out in his blaze of glory, nodded, and left the room. He returned a moment later with a heavy black device with a dial and a digital readout on it.
“What is this?” the visitor asked.
“A wireless terminal. One of my own constructions. It is capable of thirty-five amperes of direct current anywhere inside the Valley City limits. The metal plate at the top should be able to deliver the jolt. Give it a try.”
The man placed his hand on the plate, and dialed it up to ten amperes. A sizzling sound, accompanied by the smell of roasting meat, filled the room.
“This will do,” the man said, “Much obliged, Carver. I'll be on my way.”
“Actually...if you would be so kind as to give me a moment of your time,” Victor said, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses.
“For what?”
“I was wondering about the possibility of a new contract. With new payment, Grand Marquis Shax.”
Without hesitation, the tall man replied:
“No.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not.”
“May I ask why? You and your compatriots have never outright refused, before.”
“Because 'No' is a negation. It indicates refusal.”
“I'm asking for a motive, not a definition.”
“Because this was your last chance to form a contract. Your payments are a toxic asset, now.”
“Fine, then. There are still sixty-nine of your compatriots that I can call up and parlay with.”
The man smiled, but the expression didn't touch his eyes.
“That won't help you, Carver. None of us will respond to your summons.”
“Why?”
“There is a curse on the roof of your house, a number on your days, and a mark on your head. There can be no more deals between us.”
And with that, he was gone. His Body, and all that he carried, turned to mist and dissipated.
2.
It shows how foolish people are when they blame themselves for anything they have done. Satan knows, and he said nothing happens that your first act hasn't arranged to happen and made inevitable; and so, of your own motion you can't ever alter the scheme or do a thing that will break a link.
Wade came awake slowly, his consciousnesses bubbling up through his brain until it settled in the forefront. Eventually, he opened his eyes, and looked up at a white plaster ceiling.
His right arm was pinned to his side by the soft surface of the sofa, and he shifted, rolling over to bury his head in the joint of the couch's back to its body. He squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself to wait fifteen minutes.
The couch was long, but not quite long enough, requiring him to bend his knees and curve his spine. After a moment in this position he shifted, resting his calves on one of the sofa's arms, and stretching his back out as far as he could.
“Awake?” Theia asked.
“Mmmnnn.”
“That's a yes. I'm making breakfast. You know where the shower is?”
Wade sat up, but didn't roll to his feet, taking another long, leisurely stretch.
He cleaned himself off, and came into the kitchen, settling down opposite of his hostess. She was reviewing a page from a notebook.
“I've got a test in an hour, so I won't be able to help you out with anything before noon.”
Wade nodded, and looked down at the plate in front of him.
Omlette with cheese and green chili. A corn tortilla cold. Half a potato, diced. A small saucer with reheated lentil soup.
“Didn't have any bacon,” she said.
“It's okay. Thank you for breakfast,” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“No problem, Wade. You know the couch folds out?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. But I can hear the damn thing groaning while you fidget in the middle of the night. It might not be able to hold you.”
“Maybe not.”
There was a noise from the living room.
“There's a buzzing noise,” Theia noted, “been going on for a while.”
“You didn't check?”
“I was making breakfast. Besides, it was either your phone or some insect I didn't really want to deal with.”
Wade stood, and walked into the living room.
“One Voicemail,” he read from the screen.
He picked it up, dialed into his voicemail, and sat at the table.
“Wade. It's Algernon. I'm in the hospital. Do you think you could get my car and come pick me up? It should be in the lot behind the you-see. Keys should be on my desk.”
Click.
Wade sighed.
“Looks like I have work today.”
“Oh? What mystery are you going to try to solve?” Theia asked, sipping from her glass of milk.
“Why Algernon's in the hospital, and why he sounded happy about it.”
Theia blinked twice.
“Those questions can't have good answers.”
3.
Wade walked up to the desk.
“Algernon Heller?”
The nurse looked at him, and gestured to the sign-in sheet.
“He should be in room B2, right now.”
“Thanks.”
Wade took the elevator down, and headed for the renovated wing of the hospital. An intern was listening to Algernon's heartbeat while the older man sat, an expression of strained tolerance on his face. His shirt was sitting next to him, and he had bandages wrapped around his chest.
“Wade, thank God,” he said, louder than he needed to. The intern jumped, and Algernon stood, pulling on his shirt. It still smelled of cordite, but he didn't seem to care.
“Let's get the hell out of here.”
“You can't...” the intern began, before the two men shut the door behind them.
“What happened?” Wade asked.
“You wouldn't believe me,” Algernon replied.
“Try me.”
“I got shot by this guy who looked exactly like me.”
“Black smoke coming out of his head?”
Algernon looked over at him.
“How'd you know?”
“Well, other than the getting shot part, that's been happening, lately. I'll explain on the way.”
“The way?” Algernon asked.
“Isn't this the part where we go and yell at the Carver house?”
Algernon ran his hand through his shaggy hair, his eyes narrowed.
“I suppose it is, isn't it? He'd be the person most likely to be responsible.”
4.
“I told you,” Laplace says, locking eyes with Wade.
“What?”
“Stop with the mind-games,” Algernon growled, “Where's your boss. We need to have a word or two with him.”
“I'm afraid Victor won't be coming out, today. He's ruined.”
“What do you mean, ruined?”
“Victor was working toward a particular goal, and now that goal is unreachable.”
“What goal?” Algernon asked.
“I don't tell you.”
“What?”
“I'm not the one who's going to tell you. It's not my role to do that one. I will tell you that he's not the one you should be worried about, right now.”
“Who should we be worried about?” Algernon asks.
“You've already met them. The Duplicates. The Grand Marquis...the big guy with the '#44' tattoo?...he made them, and they're going to set some terrible events in motion.”
“Do we stop them?” Wade asked her.
“You try,” she said.
“Why won't you be more helpful? Don't you have absolute causal knowledge?” he asked.
Laplace shook her head.
“I'm also caught up in that course of events. I have to play my role. But there is something I will let you know: I see a cloudy darkness at the end of every path that proceeds from this point. There's no escaping it.”
“Well, everyone dies,” Wade offered.
“This isn't death. This is 'Never-was-at-all.' Good luck, boys. I'll tell you this much, though. What you are looking for is inside of an image. The image is something that provides protection, a fetish of sorts.”
“Fetish?”
“In the sense of a totemic image. Not something involving whips and chains or dirty panty hose, no. It's a riddle. You can't go there, yet, but you'll figure it out around the time you're supposed to go there. Have fun, boys.”
“Thank you, Laplace,” Wade said.
“And tell your boss we said 'fuck you,'” Algernon added, with a smile.
“I'll be sure to do that. You need to get going.”
Both parties turned and walked away.
Laplace walked inside, and found Victor sitting in the same leather chair that he had been sitting in. Rene had his hand on Victor's forehead, and their master's eyes had a distant look in them behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
“Bring him out of the illusion,” Laplace said.
Rene removed his hand, and Victor blinked.
“I have a message from a Mister Heller,” Laplace said.
“Oh?”
“Yes. He asked me to tell you that he said 'Fuck you.' Don't worry, though. He's not long for this world.”
5.
Wade and Algernon collected Theia and returned to Unreal City. They unlocked the bar, and Wade went behind it, retrieving three beers, and opened them, putting them down in front of the other two.
“We need to figure this shit out,” Algernon said, taking a swig of his.
“Should you two be drinking this early?” Theia asked.
“What do you mean 'you two?'” Wade asked, gesturing to the beer in front of her. She looked at it, and finally took a sip.
“A protective image,” Wade said.
“What is a place that could be considered a 'protective image?'” Algernon asked.
“The statue in front of the biology building on the VCU campus?” Wade offered.
“Why do you say that?” Algernon asked.
“It's Asclepius, the god of healing.”
“Yeah, but the revivalist temple a few blocks away has a statue of Eshmun, who's also a God of healing.”
Wade thought for a moment.
“I was supposed to solve a case for them. I'll have to return their money.”
“That's beside the point,” Algernon said, “we can solve that later.”
“What's this about a protective image?” Theia asked.
“It's a clue as to where we're supposed to go next,” Algernon said.
“What do you mean?”
“We got it on good authority that what we're looking for is there.”
“And what are you looking for?” Theia asked.
“Anything. God. I'm just trying to make sense of all this shit. I guess we're looking for our Duplicates.”
“You've got one, too?” Theia asked Algernon.
“Yeah. Son of a bitch shot me.”
“Ouch. That explains the hospital.”
The three of them fell silent.
“A good hiding place. A protective image...” Theia muttered.
Another long stretch of silence, and the three continued to drink their beers.
“Palladion,” she said.
“What, now?”
“Palladion or Palladium was a wooden statue of Athena that supposedly protected first Troy and then Athens. It's also a rat's nest of warehouses where no one really goes.”
“Alright then, we're going to Palladion. Finish your beers.”
“I'm not going,” Theia said.
“Why not?” Algernon asked.
“Algie. I'm still in School, and we're getting close to midterms, I've got to write a paper. I'll help you out, afterward. Mind dropping me off at the library on your way to Palladion?”
6.
“I've been here, before,” Wade says.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I ripped a guy's ear off, here.”
“Oh.”
The warehouse had a blackened spot in the middle, where a fire-pit had been scrubbed away halfheartedly. All around the room were discarded electrical components. Spools of wire, cracked vacuum tubes, unwound solenoids, batteries dripping acid into abstract etchings on the floor.
In the middle of the room was a table with a map on it.
The two of them edged toward the map, and saw it was covered in circles, many of which were Xed out.
“Looks like they're setting things up all over the city,” Wade noted.
“But what?” Algernon asked.
“Uh...maybe something like that?” Wade said, pointing.
In one corner of the room was a small apparatus, perhaps the size of a shoebox. It had a row of blinking yellow lights on one side, and a cord that ran into the wall. It looked like its cord had been screwed in place to prevent it from being knocked out. A large “VCP&L” logo on the side of the box camouflaged it as official.
“This can't be good,” Wade noted.
There was heavy breathing behind him, and he felt a foot impact the small of his back.
Algernon turned and began to pull his gun from the shoulder holster, but a fist shot forward and hit him in the mouth.
When they had the presence of mind to look at their attacker, they saw that she wore Theia's face, but her head was surrounded by a halo of greasy black smoke.
The duplicate reached forward, and pulled the map from the table, folding it up, and stuffing it into her blouse, before planting a kick in Algernon's injured side and another in Wade's temple.