How was that? Isn't old Cass a sweet guy? He seems to really love Church in spite of the loose screw in his head. Good for him. As for this chapter, it seems things are starting to happen. Church gets creative with his magic and comes up with a way he can help. Have a look.
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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: Stolen Love The third and final installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
30
A Way That I Can Help
I led the way up the steps, across the entryway, and back to the main dining room. I hoped the gang hadn't broken up completely because I wanted to know what was going to come next. I assumed Bem would have some thoughts on next steps, and I wanted to find out if Andy and Comet were back with Leah and the compromised servant.
I entered the room and held the door for Cass. He puttered in without acknowledging me and headed for a seat at the table. Everyone else was still in place with the addition of Cellarius. Lenis was just getting ready to leave the room. She seemed to be on a mission but stopped long enough to check on me and to register disappointment that Paul wasn't with us.
Bem was the first to ask after Joe. "Do we need to send Met to put what's left of your brother back together?"
"Nope, I left him in one piece. Paul is going to see what he can do with him."
"Such an attractive man, your friend Paul." Lenis said just to me. "I have such a weakness for broad, mature men."
I leaned in and surprised my mother-in-law with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Like me?" I teased.
"I said mature men." She teased back as she returned the hug. "You would need at least a hundred more years to season before I would be interested, and I think my son would have something to say about that."
I debated with myself for barely a moment before I encouraged her in Paul's direction. "It looks like he's going to stay. Be gentle with him, mom. That man has been out of circulation for a very long time."
Lenis glanced down, just enough to tilt her head toward the floor, then she raised her eyes to me in an exact copy of the up-from-under look Shawn uses to drive me wild. "I know what to do." She breathed so only I could hear her. She stepped around me and hurried away.
Paul's going to need a taser to keep her away now.' I thought as I watched her go. I hope it wasn't a mistake to say something. Oh well.' I brought my attention back to Bem and the topic at hand. I was just getting ready to ask about the next steps when Cellarius approached me.
"Sir, that outfit seems quite the worse for wear. Perhaps a change is in order." He suggested.
I lowered my eyes to my blood-stained shirt and pants and was forced to agree. That didn't mean I'd planned to attempt a trip to the apartment to get clothes. I hoped Cellarius would be willing to help me out. He anticipated my problem and offered before I got the chance to ask. "I will select something suitable if you will permit me."
"Please." I agreed, then as an afterthought I added a request for my brother. "Would you do something for Joe as well? He and Paul are in the barracks, but I don't know for how much longer."
"I will take care of this first," Cellarius gestured to me, "then I will see to your brother." The butler went away, his steps directed to his task.
I turned to Bem, again planning to ask about next steps. He was as prescient as Cellarius and launched into an explanation without my having to ask. "Verpa gave me an idea." He said as an opener. "Actually, he gave Neb the idea and she gave it to me. I'm disappointed I didn't think of it. Domus is in real estate. It's his main legitimate business. If we approach the problem logically...follow my thought process and tell me if you agree."
All the eyes in the room fastened themselves to Bem. I noticed Cass watching his son with an intensity I hadn't noticed before. I wondered if the attorney in Cass hoped to be impressed by the logic that Bem was about to display.
Bem assumed his thoughtful posture as he got ready to speak. His left hand drifted to his right shoulder and his right hand slid into his pocket. "Logically, Shawn has to be somewhere. As a real estate mogul, Domus has many `somewheres' to choose from." Bem used his air quotes around the made-up word.
"Therefore, Shawn is being held in one of Domus' buildings. All you need to hold someone indefinitely is a room, a culinarian, a big stockpile of food base, and bathroom facilities. You don't even need guards if you don't want to have them. You could lock out access to the building management system and secure the exits, and you could keep someone...someone without physical magic, a prisoner for a very long time."
I crossed the room to a seat at the table as Bem laid out his thoughts. As I sat, Bem rose to stand behind his chair. He resumed his thoughtful posture as he stood. "Domus wouldn't want to give any of his tenants a hold over him, so he wouldn't want any of them to know about Shawn.
"Therefore, Shawn is being held at a building that's unoccupied. Whether that's because it's currently unrented or it's being remodeled, I can't say. I would think a building being remodeled is less likely because halting a project with no explanation would be suspicious. Therefore, it's more likely Shawn is being held in a building that's currently unrented and available."
Everything that Bem had said to that point made perfect sense to me. As I followed his reasoning, I felt myself getting excited. It seemed we finally had a lead, something to work on, a thread to pursue. It was tough to stay calm enough to follow Bem's logic as he laid it out, but I gave it my all.
My friend continued his explanation. "As real estate is the clean part of Domus' business, he would take great pains to make sure every aspect of that business is done according to all government rules and regulations. He wouldn't want sloppy bookkeeping or some other minor infraction of the rules to invite scrutiny into his affairs. That means every property, and its status as rented or available, must be listed with the government's real property office for tax purposes."
I jumped ahead of Bem's detailed explanation to what I assumed was the obvious conclusion. "So, all we have to do is check the records of Domus' properties and we can narrow down where they're keeping Shawn." I blurted in a burst of enthusiasm.
Bem put his hands up, palms toward me, and moved them up and down in the air in the universal motion for `settle down.' "That's the conclusion the logic leads us to. It might not be the case, but it's likely, based on what we know.
"Once we have the list of properties, we can assign them probabilities according to which buildings have the ability to land planes on or in or near. We know they transported Shawn by air, and it would be less risky to land directly in, or at, a building and transfer Shawn into it, rather than land at an airfield and involve additional means of transportation."
I jumped to the next obvious conclusion. "Is that where Lenis went?" I asked. "To check on the properties."
Neb stood from her place at the table and spoke for the first time since I walked in. She pushed her rolled sleeves above her elbows and crossed her arms in a self-hug before she started talking. "Lenis went to call Steward Summas with the results of Bem's logic."
"And fine logic it is." Cass interrupted Neb with praise for his son. "Fine logic, my Bem. Logic that is worthy of the most astute case lawyer in the land. Excellent, Bem, my boy, excellent."
Bem objected to the praise. "Pride, father...we talked about this."
Cass agreed with Bem. "Indeed we did, and you were supposed to speak with that Christ fellow about it. If you have not done as you said you would, I cannot help that."
Bem shook his head in frustration. Cass coughed a single dry cough to punctuate his assertion then fell silent. Neb went on like she hadn't been interrupted at all.
"The Steward will have to request the records. They are public information, but anyone requesting access to them would have to provide their name and their reason for wanting the records. We don't know if Domus' reach extends into the government. We assume it does at some level, and we don't want to risk exposing our inquiry.
"I am certain that Steward Summas can get the records anonymously. Once he transmits them to Lenis, she and I will compile the list of buildings and rate them according to some of the criteria Bem already mentioned as well as additional factors. After that, we will have to figure out how to approach them."
Cy raised his round head and entered the conversation. "We don't know if Shawn is under guard, and if he is, what those guards have been instructed to do if their position is compromised. We can't search every building. That would be too obvious and, depending on how long the list is, it would take too much time. We need to come up with a way to approach with caution. Rescuing Shawn has to be a surgical process, not a smash-and-grab robbery. That's what we were talking about when you came in."
I accepted Cy's words as they made perfect sense. As I didn't have anything to add, I didn't try to add anything. With their explanation finished, the professionals went back to talking amongst themselves about ways and means to search for and rescue Shawn. Words started to fill the air; terms like extraction' and strike team' and `stealth' were used.
I tried to put my brain power to work on the problems, but I had no experience to draw on. The little that I'd learned during the first mission and the four years that followed didn't seem applicable to the current situation. Much of that time, during the missions Shawn and I went on for Ars, we just sort of fiddled around and tried to stay out of the way of the real professionals.
Since I couldn't help, my mind turned to other thoughts. I imagined my husband locked in a room with just a culinarian, a bathroom, and a bag of food base to keep him company. The image made me sad. I knew Shawn would be lonely and bored.
Much more than me, Shawn thrived on people. I think that's one of the reasons he became a physician. Still, I was glad that loneliness and boredom seemed to be the worst tortures he'd have to deal with. That was a small comfort, but still a comfort. Having followed that line of logic out to its end, I put my mind back on the problem at hand.
There has to be something I can do.' I reasoned. I've got all this magic. I can do great, big things, but that's kind-of the problem.' I thought to myself as I rested my chin in my hand and my elbow on the table. `I can do great big things, but this has to be a small precise thing. Shawn is the expert at precision. I'm better at the sledgehammer approach to problems.' I thought about everything my magic could do, but nothing came to mind that would be particularly helpful.
Some of the trouble was that I could use my telekinesis on everything that wasn't me. I could carry people and things, but I stayed on the ground. I could make Andy fly, but I didn't see how that would help much.
I considered it as a possible distraction but nothing more. Something like that would make a great scene for an action movie, to have Andy swoop out of the sky and blast a hole in the building where Shawn was being held. He could open his mind to Shawn, and they could both fly out while bullets blazed around them. Great stuff, but no practical application.
That was the whole problem with my magic. As a general rule, I was very much a walking atom bomb, great as a deterrent, but shitty for close combat. I was in far better physical shape than I had been for that first mission, but I still wasn't a fighter. Bem's teasing when we were driving back from the site of the kidnapping on Tuesday morning reminded me of that. If I could land a hit, I could knock someone into next week, Joe would vouch for me there, but anyone with even a little agility could out-maneuver me easily.
What can I do that can help?' I asked myself again. I redundantly wished Shawn was there, because he'd know what I could do that would help rescue him. Idiot.' I berated myself for pointless musings.
I thought about my and Shawn's emotional link. It didn't have a tremendous range, but enough so if I was outside a building and he was inside, I'd sense him. It seemed to me that the link could be useful, but with its limited range, it would likely only be good for confirmation, not to search.
That line of logic made me wonder about the telepaths and the clairvoyants in the group. The first time I'd even thought about the range of a telepath was the previous day, or I guess the one before that. The subject had come up when Primis was with us, and we were trying to figure out how to un-program him remotely.
I wondered if it was possible to increase the range of a telepath. I wondered if my magic could somehow, `boost their signal' like a high-powered radio station. That was something we hadn't considered that night with Primis. I knew that just being around me for extended periods of time expanded magic capacity. I knew that I could provide magic to someone who was using a lot of it, like in-flight refueling a plane, but I wondered what would happen if I tried to pressurize that fuel.
I wondered if I could boost a magic user to increase their ability. Maybe push the magic into them to make them stronger. I envisioned my magic supercharging a magic user by forcing more power through their ability. I wondered if pressurized magic could increase the reach for one of the twins, or Altus, or even Andy.
Since all the empaths were familiar with Shawn, I assumed that meant any of them would be able to mentally pick him out. It made sense, to me anyway, that for any empath to communicate, they would first have to identify the person they wanted to communicate with. It followed that they should be able to pick people out by their mental...signature, maybe. I knew that I was guessing because I didn't have any idea how an empath's power worked. Still, I wondered if I could increase their reach.
There weren't any of the right kind of empaths around to ask, and I was impatient to experiment. I assumed that boosting power, if that was even a thing, would work for any kind of magic user. I thought about Bem and his telekinesis. If I could boost him, that would at least be proof of concept. I decided my idea was worth announcing to the group. Instead of just presenting my thoughts, I decided to try an experiment.
"Bem, how much weight can you lift with your telekinesis now?" I asked.
I'd caught Bem mid-sentence and derailed his train of thought. He lifted his head from the intense conversation he'd been having with Neb. "What? My magic...I don't know. I know I can lift you."
"Easily?" I asked.
Bem shook his head in the negative. "Not really. It's a strain. Not a huge strain, but you're a big guy, Big Guy. Why?"
I got up from the table and moved to stand behind Bem. He rotated to face me with his head tilted in confusion. "Can you lift this table?" I asked and pointed at the very heavy dining room table. I knew for a fact the thing weighed a few tons.
Bem seemed like he was willing to play along with me to a point, but he thought my line of questioning was silly. He appeared to be growing impatient. "You know I can't." He said sharply.
"Humor me." I physically turned Bem to face the table. I put my hand on his upper back, brought my magic to the surface, and let it flow into him with a gentle push behind it. "Try."
Bem concentrated on the table. It shook, then rose steadily into the air. The Dux brothers slid their chairs back in surprise and stood. Cass did the same. "WOW!" Bem gasped, amazed at the achievement.
I pushed power into Bem, and he kept the table in the air. I think both of us wanted to see how long we could keep doing what we were doing. "How do you feel?" I asked.
"Incredible!" Bem said with excitement in his voice.
I felt that he felt incredible. I noticed that, by feeding my power into him, I'd established the emotional sharing with Bem that I'd learned I could do when we'd been on Earth. Bem and I hadn't done that since he and Mary had gotten together. I missed my friend's emotions, but like I'd said to him when we were both sitting on the hood of the Vic, he belonged to Mary now. I assumed that Bem also felt my melancholy, but it was overwhelmed by the experience of the magic.
Bem seemed inspired by his newfound ability and wanted to test its limits. He tilted his head to the right and all twenty-five chairs on that side of the table leapt into the air. They started with the chair closest to Bem and proceeded rapidly to the end of the row, like someone running their finger across piano keys. Bem tilted his head to the left and all twenty-four of those chairs leapt into the air to match their counterparts. The chair Bem had been seated in at the table's head also rose.
Lastly, Bem gave his attention to the vast sideboard cabinet that ran the entire length of the room. I knew that cabinet weighed more, much more than the table and chairs combined. The great piece of furniture trembled, seemed to hesitate for barely an instant, then rose into the air and hovered.
"THIS IS AMAZING!" Bem shouted his enthusiasm at the room. "I feel like I could do ANYTHING! Do you always feel this way, Big Guy?"
I felt a little of what Bem was feeling through the link my magic had established between us. He was experiencing some of the euphoria that I usually got when I expended a large amount of power. That surprised me, because the amount of magic that I was feeding into Bem was barely a fraction of what I was capable of. It wasn't even enough to start the power plant in my core. I assumed that Bem felt it much more intensely because of his small natural capacity.
"It's different for me." I said to respond to Bem's question after far too much thought. "Are you OK?" I asked. "Any feelings of stress or strain or burnout or anything like that?"
Bem answered with too much enthusiasm for him to be worried about burnout. "No, I feel like I could do this all day. I WANT to keep going. It feels REALLY GOOD. No WONDER you and Shawn always get all needy and lovey after you do something big."
Cass's high voice called caution to his son. "Bem, my boy, perhaps...perhaps enough is enough."
I looked toward Cass and saw the concern stamped as a grimace on his face. He was afraid for his son, afraid of what my magic might do to him. I turned my eyes from Cass and let them drift around the rest of the room. Every eye from every person present was on me. Everyone was staring. These people who had known me for years, who had been there when I defeated the barrier around King Pravus, they were staring like...like I didn't know what. It made me feel like a freak for doing what I was doing, even though I wasn't really doing anything.
I figured the best thing to do was to stop what I was doing. "OK," I said to echo Cass's caution, "I think the point is made. Why don't you start setting everything down?"
"Buzzkill." Bem accused me and his father with a single word. He was teasing, but I felt there was some truth behind his statement. He did as I asked and set everything back in its place. When the table touched down, I shut my power off and took my hand from Bem's back.
Bem started to take a step, but he stumbled like his legs wouldn't support him. I simultaneously grabbed for him with my hands and held him up with my magic. I pulled his chair over, sat him in it, and moved around in front of him to see if he was OK. He was awake and grinning at me with a slightly vacant look in his eyes. "Sorry to worry you." He said and sounded a little vague. "I feel a little...I don't know...it's kind of like afterglow. You know what I mean?"
"I do." I admitted and berated myself for trying an experiment like that without a doctor present. "You sure you're OK?"
"Yes." Bem nodded and seemed to come back to himself.
I looked up to see Cass at Bem's side. He'd come to check on his son. Bem reassured the old man and sent him back to his seat. Cass went reluctantly, but he went. As the room settled down from my experiment, Cy asked a question from the sidelines. "What was the point of that?"
Neb answered before I had a chance to. "If he can do that for an empath, we can locate Shawn." She announced to the room.
I touched my nose with my right index finger and pointed at Neb with my left hand in a copy of the charades mime for `on the nose.' I tried to explain my logic. "It occurred to me...you know, I boost everyone passively, I wondered if I could boost someone actively. We don't know what my power would do for an empath or if a telepath or a clairvoyant would be a better candidate, but I think Bem's display is proof of concept at least. When the boys get back with Leah, we can test it."
The professionals started to brainstorm all the possibilities that my successful experiment opened up, and I retreated into my mind. I hoped the loose threads that people were starting to follow would soon come together into a strong cord that would lead me to Shawn.
I thought of all the individual threads that people were working on. There was Lenis' research into Domus' properties, the upcoming questioning of the compromised servant, the observations of Primis, and the potential of a supercharged empath. `Darling be home soon.' I thought, for the first time without the deep stab of melancholy attached to the song lyric.
The professionals were working on more ideas when Cellarius arrived with fresh clothes for me. I took them to the restroom in the hall between the dining room and the ballroom to change. When I looked in the mirror, after I was done dressing, I saw that I was wearing a buttoned-down shirt, with a squarish cut like a bowling shirt, over a pair of straight-leg pants.
The generous cut of the clothes was the complete opposite of the aggressively revealing, cruising collection get-up I'd ruined with my blood. It was interesting to me that I thought I looked bigger in the roomy outfit than I had in the snug one.
The colors were wild, but also less aggressive. The shirt and pants were a mottled blend of brown and silver with dull red trim and red heels. I searched the pockets until I found the card that showed what fish I was. Red Throat Emperor' the card said and showed a picture of a large-bodied reef fish with mottled flanks and red fins. The card text informed me that the fish could grow up to eighteen inches in length and weigh fourteen pounds. Pretty big fish,' I thought as I eyed the ugly brute.
I stuck the card in the pocket it came from and strolled from the bathroom back to the dining room. More people were present than when I left.
I saw that the Oppidum contingent had returned and entered the house while I was changing. Leah was chatting with Bem while Andy and Comet loitered to the side with a third man I recognized, but only slightly. I assumed he was the compromised servant.
What was his name?' I wondered to myself as I approached the crowd at the far end of the room. Ancillary, Appurtenance, Auxiliary, Authorized, Amoeba...' I thought as I shuffled A' words through my mind with greater and greater absurdity. I know it starts with an `A.''
"Ancillarum." My clairvoyant nephew informed me.
The semi-familiar servant raised his eyes at the sound of his name. He realized he was being spoken about, and not to, and lowered his gaze again. I stopped some distance from him and let my eyes take him in. He was a good-looking youngish man, taller than most Solumites. In that moment, he stood with his shoulders sloped and rounded in a posture of defeat.
The servant was blond, a striking platinum blond with blue eyes that were so bright, he appeared to be lit from within. He had flawless porcelain skin and fine, almost elfin features. His body was rangy and healthy, showed off by his informal street attire. White shorts and a candy-apple red t-shirt clung to his body and highlighted his sinewy fitness. He wore red spike heels that matched his shirt and rounded his muscular ass.
I had a vague fantasy about the man as I sized him up and was quickly scolded by my nephew for it. "Uncle Church!" He said sharply.
"What?" I demanded and pointed at the blond man. "Tell me you wouldn't." I shot back at Andy. "If you tell me that, I'll call you a liar."
I tried to get the servant to back me up. I caught his eye and jerked my head toward Andy and Comet. "You would, wouldn't you?" I asked him.
Ancillarum didn't even glance their way before he answered. "Yes." He agreed and did a quick scan of the room. "With anyone here."
I started to smile at the servant's honesty, but the smile died on my lips and turned to an angry frown. Suddenly I found that I hated the man. I hated him because his statement forced me to recognize him for what he was. I told him as much. "Spoken like a true opportunist." I growled my anger at him. "And that's why you're here, isn't it? ISN'T IT?" I demanded.
My medium shout brought all the background noise in the room to instant silence. You could have heard a pin drop. All eyes were on me. The blond averted his gaze from my accusation and kicked at the floor under his feet. He mumbled something I didn't catch. I blasted him. "SPEAK UP, YOU FUCKING COWARD!"
Ancillarum straightened up, faced me boldly, and shouted back. "IT SEEMED HARMLESS!"
"But it wasn't, was it?" I asked him. I didn't give him a chance to answer me. "They kidnapped my husband. THEY KIDNAPPED MY HUSBAND!" I took a breath and lowered my volume. "Not so harmless, was it? They took him so I would have to give them money. You took money to give them information. That makes you just as bad as them."
I heard a dry cough from the other side of the room. I started to look toward the noise when Bem stepped between me and the servant. He had his hands raised, his palms toward me. "Big Guy," he said cautiously, "you agreed to leave this to me."
I noticed with relief that Bem was back to normal after his experience with my magic. I was glad about that, but still far from happy. "Why is he just standing there?" I asked, full of anger and hate. "Why aren't you questioning him?"
Bem stepped forward until he could put his raised hands on my chest. He looked directly in my eyes. "We're waiting for Joe to get here. He and Paul are on their way. Joe is going to help me, and Paul is going to go with you."
"Where?" I asked.
"Anywhere that isn't here." Bem replied, still cautiously.
I stood in place to consider what to do next. I didn't want to just walk away and leave everyone else to do the work of finding Shawn. I wanted to participate in the effort. I hated the idea of leaving the room to do more waiting while the professionals did the things that would save my husband, my Shawn. Through my hate, I remembered the boost I'd given Bem and had an idea. "Can I take Leah, Andy, and Comet, or will you need them?" I asked Bem who still had his hands pressed against my chest.
Bem fidgeted like he wanted to ask me what I planned to do with them, but he seemed to think better of questioning me. It was either that, or he figured out what I planned to do. "You can have them. Take Paul with you."
"I planned to." I agreed.
"Fine, that's fine. Why not wait for Paul in the hallway?" Bem suggested and gave me a gentle push toward the door. "I'll send the young people out to you."
I allowed myself to be pushed. I stood in the hallway and leaned on the wall to wait for everyone to come to me.
Paul and Joe showed up first. They stopped in front of me. Joe held his hand out in an offer to shake with me. I accepted his offer and shook his hand. When he took his hand back, he used it to rub his neck like I do and apologized. "I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, but it's all I have right now."
I was stunned. An apology from Joe was like...it wasn't anything I ever expected to get. My emotions got the better of me. I lunged at him and wrapped him in a hug. He returned the embrace, and I tightened my grip around him.
Joe felt good in my arms. It felt good to hug my brother, to hug him as I remembered him, not as he became later. His beard scratched my cheek, but that was the only thing left of the miserable Joe that came later. The man in my arms was very much my brother, very much the brother I knew and loved, very much the brother I needed.
A very small, struggling voice reached my ear. "Church," it wheezed, "need...air."
I broke the embrace and stepped back. Joe sucked air in and blew it out like he'd just finished a sprint. "Sorry." I chuckled as he recovered.
Joe patted his chest down like he was checking for broken ribs and smiled at me. "Thanks." He said.
The young people came out of the dining room. Their presence meant it wasn't the right time or place for a heartfelt reunion. I jerked my chin toward the door and spoke to Joe. "They need you in there. Talk later?" I asked.
"Yeah." He agreed.
"Yeah?" I teased and emphasized the vernacular word. "Yeah...what's yeah?"
"Yes, smart butt!" Joe teased back and marched into the dining room.
Paul watched Joe walk away and then let his eyes drift to me. He looked from me to the open-door Joe had just gone through, to the young people, and back to me. "I assume you have a plan of some kind." He ventured.
"Yup," I agreed, "we're going on a picnic."