Tales from the Magitech Lounge Read online

  When she was found dead of an overdose of sleeping aids, I was the one who sought answers. There wasn’t anyone else, considering our parents had died in an accident when we were both teenagers. I was the only one that questioned the apparent suicide. Suicide isn’t illegal, after all. Not anymore. But I couldn’t understand why she’d done it.

  My investigation had turned up the reason, and, in what might have been the ultimate act of foolishness, I made the bastard pay for what he did to her. I used my knowledge of the human brain to destroy the neural pathways in his head that made him an adult. I systematically eliminated memories, connections, and the bio-chemical responses that made him what he was. I turned him back into a child and froze him there. He will never again see the world other than through the eyes of a five year old.

  I was nearly warlocked for the crime, locked away from my magic for the rest of my life. To be honest, I’m not sure why I hadn’t been. But I’d been stripped of my license to practice medicine, and sent back to the Earth my parents had fled before I was even born.

  “Bad choices,” was all I said to Jack. What more could I say? He could take that any way he wanted.

  He seemed willing to do just that, responding with a nod. “Would you be willing to take the girl under your wing, to give her a place to stay until we can find somewhere suitable for her to go?” he asked suddenly.

  I froze, a rabbit nailed to the highway in front of an oncoming freight-mover. “What? Shit, Jack…I wish I could. I just don’t have the room.”

  He frowned, not quite realizing what was wrong with that statement. Thankfully his grasp of the mechanics of magecraft was rather limited. No mage worth a damn couldn’t create space—or the illusion of space—as needed.

  And my house wasn’t particularly tiny to begin with. Cluttered and filled with all sorts of junk I didn’t need, but hardly too small to take in a young boarder.

  My reasons were simpler, and more selfish, than that. I didn’t want the disruption. Judge me for it if you want. I’ve been judged before and survived the experience. And as far as sins go, it was nothing compared to the sins of the dark god in the room.

  “It doesn’t leave me with many choices,” Jack sighed. “I can make room for her upstairs if I have to, but I’m not sure a tavern is the best place for a kid. Even this one.”

  Great. The guilt card. And what’s worst of all was that he didn’t know he was playing it. He’d taken my words at face value and his only concern was the well-being of the kid. “Maybe we should take a minute to ask her what she would like,” I said.

  He considered this for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. We should ask her.” He walked over and slid back into the seat opposite her, waiting for her to finish chewing and swallow before asking, “So your name is Anya? It’s a pretty name.”

  I hung back, curious to see how he handled this. She set the burger down and lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you,” she said shyly.

  “Hi, Anya, my name is Jack. That a good burger?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, we were wondering what to do with you until we find somewhere for you to go. You can stay in one of my extra rooms upstairs, if you like.”

  “Can’t I just go home?”

  Jack winced visibly. That, of course, was impossible. Even if the house or apartment in which she’d lived still existed, her family was most likely long dead.

  Jack’s mouth moved silently as he tried to think of an appropriate response, but before he could, she raised her eyes back to his. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

  “Probably,” he answered. “It’s been a long time.”

  “How long?” As I watched her face transform, I realized the shyness was fading quickly, replacing itself with a sense of calm maturity that looked positively alien on her small, thin body. I began to think we may have underestimated the girl. There was no way to tell what she witnessed while trapped in the Dimension of Mirrors, or the effect it had on her. In a very real way, she wasn’t the child she appeared.

  “Almost three hundred years,” Jack told her.

  She nodded and took another bite of her burger. “So my parents—“

  “Are probably gone.”

  She snorted mid-swallow and looked pained. She coughed twice to clear her throat. “Probably?”

  “It’s a different world,” he explained. “Some people live hundreds of years or longer now. There are some who were alive then who are still alive now. But the chance of your parents being among them is pretty small.”

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” she said, watching him unblinkingly. “My father was a sick bastard and my mother as useless as they come. The only good thing about going into the mirror was that I no longer had to live with them.”

  I’d seen that kind of anger, that kind of pain before. I wished I could raise the dead just so I could bring them back and kill them again. I knew what she meant without even asking. I knew it from the sudden throb in my temple and the taste of something vile at the back of my throat. I was a doctor, and even in these enlightened times there were those who preyed on children. Even their own children, and those who stood back and did nothing about it.

  We already knew she’d been infected by one of the viruses. My first guess was the primary metavirus. It easily explained her sudden shift into the Dimension of Mirrors. That she got it from her bastard father seemed a foregone conclusion. Of course, it might also have been the first and only manifestation of the Arcane virus. There was little or no mana in the Dimension of Mirrors, from what I understood, and, even had she the knowledge of how to use it, she wouldn’t have known what to do to escape.

  I wished I could tell just by looking at her, but that only worked with trained mages who set their spells in orbit around themselves.

  This led me to another thought. If her father was a mage, he might still be alive. Mages lived longer than ordinary folks, longer even than metas, paras, and many ‘thropes.

  Anya was shaking her head in amazement. “I was in there for three hundred years?”

  “Two-hundred and fifty four, give or take,” Jack replied. “So what do you want to do?”

  “You say the world has changed. Is there still a Social Services office?”

  “Of a sort, yes. We can take you there, if you want, but, if you’d rather, you can just stay with one of us. We can file a writ with the courts and they’ll send a case worker out to investigate, make sure you’re who you say you are. Then you’ll be registered as a citizen and be allowed to make up your own mind where you go from there.”

  She blinked at him. “I’m only twelve,” she said. “They’re not going to let me decide for myself…” Her voice trailed off as she saw a look of mild amusement flick across his face. “What?”

  “I told you it was a different world. You’re not twelve years old anymore. You’re well over two hundred. You’re legally an adult. If you understood the world as it is today, you could go out tomorrow and get a job and an apartment, and start living whatever life you chose to live.”

  “A job? Really? Doing what? I have no skills. I never got past sixth grade.”

  “Well, then, I’d say you’d best stick with one of us until you get some skills,” he answered smoothly.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned, to find Hades looking down at me. I hadn’t realized he was that much taller than I was until that moment. He topped me by at least four inches, if not more. “She’s a mage,” he told me. “I can see it in her.”

  “How?” I asked, hating to admit my ignorance to him.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. I can just tell. I’d like to offer my services as a tutor.” He raised his hand to forestall my reflexive objection. “Not to say I don’t think you’re competent, or that there aren’t many good mage schools out there. But I have several thousand years of practice to lean upon…far more than anyone you know. And I would like to do something good for a change.”

  It may sound strange, but I
believed him. “I’ll tell you what. Once we get Anya settled in, we’ll all sit down and talk about it. That’s the best I can do.”

  “That’s the most I can ask of you,” he replied with a tight smile. He walked up to the bar and laid something down. “I must be going,” he said, “but I wanted to thank you all for being here. It’s been good for me, and, I dare say, good for your other unexpected guest as well. This is a five hundred credit chit. Everyone here should be able to drink for free tonight with some left over. Put the rest toward getting young Anya some new clothes and whatever else she needs.”

  With that, he cast a smile around the room and walked out the door. The regulars watched in silent amazement as he left, then looked at each other in puzzlement. I went and ordered another drink, then returned to the table where Jack and Anya remained deep in conversation.

  She smiled up at me as I approached. “Hi, Kevin.” She slid over and patted the seat next to her. “Go ahead and sit down. We were just talking about you.”

  Somehow I wasn’t surprised. “Hades said something strange before he left,” I told Jack. “He said that Anya’s a mage and he wanted to volunteer to tutor her.”

  Jack chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “What do you think of that?” he asked me.

  “What does he mean, mage?” Anya asked with a frown.

  So I explained how the Cen had come to Earth a thousand years ago and spread several viruses around, to kill as many of us as possible, and damage our DNA so we’d lose the ability to sense or touch mana—the very stuff of magic. And how the immortal Loki, not long before she’d gone into the mirror, had sent out several counter-viruses, one of which repaired the genetic damage. And how she’d most likely contracted one of those viruses and unknowingly used magic to escape into the Dimension of Mirrors.

  “And who’s this Hades guy? The one who got me out, right?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “He’s an immortal, and one bad guy. Or, rather, he was a bad guy. Now…we’re not so sure.”

  “And he wants to teach me? Why?”

  I shrugged. “We don’t really know. He says it’s to make up for some of the shitty things he’s done.”

  “And do you believe him?”

  “I want to. I believe it’s possible to change. I know he took himself out of the equation before the war. He could have fought on the side of the Cen and done a lot of damage, but he disappeared instead.”

  She nodded. “Fine. So say I want to learn. Can I take lessons from him with one of you there?”

  “Of course,” Jack said quickly. “Kevin is a mage too. I’m sure he’d be willing to keep an eye on your lessons.”

  I didn’t really appreciate him speaking for me, but he was right. “I’d be glad to,” I said.

  She smiled sweetly and finished off the last of her milkshake. “I’m tired,” she told Jack. “Can you take me to my room now?”

  “Sure.” He stood as I slid out of the booth. “Things are going to get very interesting around here for a while,” he said, grinning at me.

  “As if they weren’t always interesting around here,” I responded. “Go. Get her set up and I’ll see you when you get finished. If you’re not back by closing time, we’ll take care of it.”

  “I know you will.”

  I watched the two of them head upstairs and motioned for the rest of the crowd to join me near the bar. “There’s a good chance she’s going to be around for a while,” I told them. “We all need to look out for her.”

  En masse, they gave me a look as if the dumbest words ever spoken had just fallen out of my mouth. I shrugged and pointed to the credit chit on the bar. “Who wants a free drink?”

  Boneyard, who’d taken Jack’s place behind the bar, sighed dramatically and began lining shots along its length.

  I spent the rest of the night immersed in the easy camaraderie of the Lounge, deliberately blocking out any thoughts of what tomorrow might bring. It’s a rare occasion when I manage it, but sometimes you have to live in the moment. And this moment was better than most.

  Episode III: Judgment

  I hadn’t quite gotten used to the enthusiastic greeting I received when I strode through the door into the Magitech Lounge. It wasn’t all that long ago, as I measure time, that I was one of the greatest villains Earth had ever known.

  An ironic fate for a man who’d originally turned to science to help people. Then death had come to my world and only a few of us survived to flee here. After that I guess I let bitterness and envy rip apart any sense of decency I may have initially had.

  My name is Hades, and I used to be the Lord of the Underworld. Not the one from mythology, though I suppose you might say I’m the person from which that mythological figure was crafted. I’m the very same Hades who stole thousands of mortal children and transformed them, twisted them, through magic and genetic manipulation, into an army of goblins.

  Yes, that Hades.

  I’m the very same Hades who lied to the Sidhe, and used their bloodline for my own purposes and deliberately turned them into things most people would perceive as monsters.

  That Hades. Otherwise known as “that scheming, immoral bastard”.

  As I entered the lounge and climbed the ramp to the main floor, my eyes flicked to the table in the corner, where the manager usually sat. Tonight the girl sat with him. They were eating a delicious-looking meal of lasagna with garlic bread and my mouth watered slightly as I approached. It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself a proper meal, especially something as enticing as that.

  I enjoyed good food, and refusing to eat those things that I found most compelling was one of the ways I punished myself for my crimes. I forced myself to consume the cheapest, blandest forms of mass-market neo-protein available.

  It was a small enough sacrifice, considering the price other people paid for my arrogance.

  When my mechanizations had finally been revealed, and those I had betrayed had rightfully turned on me, I realized it was nothing more than I’d deserved. I’d known it even as I pulled myself from the floor where I’d been thrown and used Thomas Grey’s abandoned wheelchair to escape before the authorities arrived. I had a long time to think about it as I recovered from the blow dealt to me by the vengeful arm of Carth, the last surviving full-blood Sidhe.

  I hated what I’d become, once I’d actually been made to turn and face it. I could not cure the goblins of their affliction, nor could I restore the Sidhe bloodline to what it once was. The evil that I’d done was permanent and I nearly lost myself to despair and self-loathing when I realized how unconscionable my crimes had truly been.

  I don’t speak of my crimes, or my self-imposed penance, to my fellow patrons at the Lounge. They know my crimes nearly as well as I do. In the years since I’d fled civilization, I’d become something of a dark legend, even more than I’d been in Earth’s distant past. Hades was the name parents used to frighten their unruly children into obedience.

  How the mighty had fallen. It had a certain delicious humor to it.

  I’d identified myself to them on the first night I’d come in, and asked for absolution. Not that I expected to get it. I would have welcomed their condemnation. It was no more than I deserved. But fate had other plans for us that night. A girl needed help, and I was the only one with the skill and knowledge to save her.

  I sometimes wonder if there is something beyond our awareness, some plan we cannot perceive. It is things like this that occasionally make it possible for me to understand those with religious sentiments. This doesn’t mean that I believe in a heaven or hell, or any of the things some mortals take for granted. I have lived too long and seen too many things to believe that there is any ultimate reward or punishment.

  But sometimes I do wonder if a plan exists.

  That night I was feeling a little down, and the smile I received from my pupil did wonders for my initial attitude upon my arrival. Her temporary guardian, Jack, gave me a smile that looked more like a grimace, but I knew he still held
reservations as to my intentions here. I couldn’t blame him for not trusting me. I would be equally suspicious if our positions were somehow reversed. It speaks very well of him that he allows me the benefit of the doubt.

  I went to magesight and scanned Anya, noting with a certain amount of (but not too much) pride that she had a couple of two-strand spells in her web. So she’d done her homework. Good. I gave her a nod and an approving smile and went to make the rounds.

  The first person I greeted was the Rastafarian Timothy. Not Tim, but Timothy. He was very emphatic about this. Of all the regulars at the Lounge, he was the one who’d accepted me first. I don’t know if it was about the color of my skin or something else, but I appreciated it more than I could say. I’d been alone for a long time and even the smallest friendly gesture meant a lot to me.

  After I’d bought Timothy a beer, I continued on, placing my hand within the mighty grasp of the troll, Hydra, and grinning up at him. He was a perfect example of how a monstrous form could hide the most humane soul. I was careful to hide my pity from him. Pity was the last thing he needed from any of us.

  Then I stopped to say hello to Kevin, the Lounge’s security mage. He’s a good guy, and as pale as I am dark. I know he didn’t trust me yet either, but, like his boss, he was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.

  I leaned back against the bar to exchange a few words with Callie, the night bartender. I engaged in mild flirtation with the pretty young woman, not intending anything more by it. If I would not allow myself the joy of consuming appetizing food, I certainly wouldn’t allow myself the satisfaction of anything more…intimate than that.

  Celibacy is often more common for immortals than it was even for Catholic Priests, when they were still required to remain celibate. So for it to be an effective sacrifice, I find I must occasionally remind myself what I’m giving up.

  You might think this is strange, but you have to understand the depths of depravity to which I sank. Calling me a villain is an insult to most villains. Take my word for it. There are few tortures I could devise for myself that would do my crimes any sort of justice at all.