Visceral Read online

  MESS, as the mages tended to call them, were heavy-handed overseers empowered by corporate pacts, and because magic users were the rarest of minorities, their protests to their restricted freedoms were unheard by most, while envy and fear caused the masses to make an exception to the idea of equal treatment.

  Taq believed that dressing down was important when going to shady places. One shouldn’t look like a rich guy who got lost or thrown out of a moving vehicle. However, he also dressed much the same everywhere he went, because he simply liked loose fitting, comfortable clothing with some functionality. Loose khakis with several pockets, very useful. A t-shirt with a pentagram on the front, represent. A dark hoodie to keep himself warm in the cool night air. A pair of skate styled sneakers. Though few now knew what skateboarding ever was, the shoes were still manufactured.

  Taq saw two dark figures at his destination near the other end of the alley as he entered its relatively tight confines. Not a great place for a mage to scuffle. But a terrific place to get knifed. Taq was a little paranoid, but no one likes seeing two shady people at the end of a dark alley where only one should be. Still, he continued walking toward them. He needed it that badly.

  As he got closer, both figures turned toward him. One with his hands in both pockets, body similarly adorned in a hoodie. The other with his arms folded over his chest, wearing some sort of suit jacket or blazer. They both looked pale, a cause of some concern for Taq, though it was hard to say for sure in the dim light provided only by sparsely placed street and building lamps. “Should I cast?” he asked himself. He didn’t want to do anything too obvious or threatening, but magic is best used as a preventative measure rather than a reactive one.

  Deciding against it, he walked up to both men, unprotected. This being his first time at such a meetup, he did not know how to proceed. Both men stared at him expectantly. “Taq,” he said, extending his hand.

  The men looked at each other, then back at him. The man with his hands in his pockets removed the right hand and shook Taq’s hand. “Wendel. Who gave you my addy, bug?”

  “Sam.” Unfamiliar with the slang term ‘bug’, he decided against using it in reply. Taq nodded nervously.

  Wendel looked at his partner. “Satisfied?”

  “You’re a mage?” the partner asked. Taq was caught off-guard. Such a question was rarely asked; it seemed almost rude.

  “Uh. Yes,” he said, bracing himself for a brutal knifing.

  Wendel turned toward his partner, hands out of his pockets in a shrugging motion. “What is the problem, bug?”

  “I don’t know… BUG,” he replied, clearly annoyed. “Maybe he’s VOCE? How do I know?” Taq didn’t know what exactly VOCE was. Vampire Order… something something. Someone who wouldn’t want these guys peddling blood.

  Before Wendel could argue with his cohort, Taq put out his open hand, palm facing upwards. He closed his eyes, his mind went through the motions. He clenched his teeth and a single flame materialized just above his palm. It grew to the width of his hand and about six inches high. All three could feel the warmth, and as Taq opened his eyes, his new acquaintances were revealed in the light. Wendel’s partner was definitely a vampire.

  Taq waved his hand, and both men flinched as the flame was extinguished. He felt slight vertigo and had to steady himself.

  Wendel laughed, lightening the mood. “See? What I wouldn’t give.”

  “You’d be giving up a lot,” Taq said. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small pen-shaped cryptstore and handed it to Wendel.

  Wendel’s grin dampened. “Right. Give him the bag. There’s not much more he can do. Otherwise why come?”

  “I thought the man kept you… people locked up. How’d you get out?” the partner questioned.

  “Magic,” deadpanned Taq. Wendel snorted.

  His partner reached inside his coat and produced a small brown paper bag. Handing it over to Taq, he warned, “Don’t get caught with it, ever.”

  He nodded, “Be well.” He turned and started back the way he came.

  * * *

  Taq looked at his watch for the third time as he jogged back to dormitory. He sucked in air through a gaping mouth, blowing it out just as quickly. Taq was no athlete. Just under six feet tall, he had a medium build with no muscle tone. “Oh my god,” he panted in a noise barely recognizable as speech. One block of sweating and cursing later, he made it to the dorm building where he lived. The door was still rigged with duct tape to stay unlocked. Taq hurried up the stairs. He passed a small poster that simply said “SLIPS KILL”, alluding to the always fatal transportation magic that stupid mages resorted to out of desperation. Had his room been higher than second floor, he was sure he wouldn’t have made it. His door was also unlocked, and he slammed it behind him and jumped into bed. Carefully he positioned his left leg on his perfectly made bed and looked at his watch one last time. “I made it,” he sighed with relief.

  Taq closed his eyes and relaxed a part of his mind that few knew existed. His professors often made the analogy that the mind is like the body. Many people who try a new exercise discover soreness in places they didn’t even know had muscles. What Taq had just done that night was the equivalent of holding one’s hands in the air for an hour. Unlike most of his brethren, he approached magic like an athlete does triathlon training. Taq didn’t practice magic; he trained it until his brain hurt, many times overdoing it.

  Taq sat up and pulled up his left pant leg. Around his ankle was the most sophisticated tracking and monitoring device ever used to control a human being. It had sensors and cameras and GPS and sound recording. If necessary it could deliver a debilitating injection and alert authorities of a mage travel violation. It only needed servicing every four years. It was nearly indestructible, with no magic yet known that could safely remove it. And with Taq’s magic, it had been fooled for the first time.

  Nothing irritated or engaged Taq like problems that have yet to be solved. That night, he had come one step closer to the solution, or at least he believed that to be the case. Other mages had cut off their feet to remove the bracelet in an attempt to escape. Taq felt like that was cheating. The device would inject if it sensed a drop in blood pressure, and if anyone were monitoring it at the time, they would witness the gory scene. Not to mention you’d then be running without a foot.

  Truth be told, mages were not capable of the fantastic feats worthy of such precautions, though Taq was something of a prodigy, and was determined to become powerful enough to warrant the fear magic had instilled in the populace.

  Over the years, Taq had cultivated symbiotic relationships with a few people outside the reach of his electronic monitoring. One such person was a ‘neuro’ named Annie. Anyone could call themself a neuro just by getting a standard neural interface implant, but Annie was the real thing. Her implant violated various inter-corp regulations and had access to whatever gray matter she wanted to give it.

  Taq met Annie at the Electronic Fun Convention, where she hacked the guest list, cross-referenced it with a list of mages, and sought him out. Not for any nefarious purposes, but just because being a mage must be ‘so sharp’. Taq was impressed and decided she could help him find things he needed without anyone else knowing. He was right, but he didn’t want to believe some of the knowledge she imparted. In particular, she revealed that vampires had lived among humanity for centuries, if not longer. This ran contrary to official reports from the global security council, which claimed they had emerged alongside mages. It was a narrative that in retrospect had been too convenient.

  Annie, in return, demanded only some entertainment. Their relationship was romantic for a short period until it no longer amused her. Taq showed her various spells, and it never failed to impress her. After a time, their meet-ups became less and less frequent, eventually stopping altogether. After three unreturned messages, he knew she had moved on. Unknown to Annie, she took a part of him with her.

  Taq stood up and walked to his mini-fridge, stealthily
pulling the paper bag from inside his hoodie’s pocket and slipping it inside the fridge. He grabbed a fizz at the same time and closed the door. As he walked toward his recliner to watch some videos and relax, the com unit on the wall next to the door beeped. Taq’s heart tried to escape his chest. “Did they know?” he panicked. For a few moments he stood still, contemplating whether to answer it or instead attempt a full-fledged escape. He twisted open his Locola fizz and took a few big gulps. Then a few more. The com continued to beep.

  Taq made up his mind to face the consequences, hopefully to live another day. Reluctantly, he pressed his thumb to the com’s screen and said in a broken voice, “Hello?”

  On the other end, “Taq Jones? This is Ms. Ploek.”

  “Yes?” he affirmed, recognizing her voice as the assistant to the university’s president.

  “Sorry to bother you at this late hour, but a car has been dispatched to pick you up,” she stated.

  “Uh, alright. Where am I going?” He sat down the fizz as his hands shook.

  “Your ride will bring you to the home of Mr. Rafir, the president of the university. He and the dean of mage relations need to speak with you. They will explain everything,” she said and disconnected.

  The tape on the door! he thought as he scrambled down the stairs to remove the evidence. As he pocketed the tape, a car rolled to a stop in the circle drive in front of the entrance. Still uncertain as to his fate, he got in the front passenger seat of the car. The driver was a black woman he didn’t recognize.

  The drive to the president’s residence would be a short one. Taq could have jogged it if he weren’t already exhausted from eight minutes of exercise already. There was an awkward silence inside the car. Clearly the driver was just there to drive, and Taq had no intention of saying anything incriminating, which meant not saying anything at all. He was quite certain that if a mind reading spell were devised, he would have to hide somewhere remote for the rest of his life.

  Taq stopped thinking and listened to the sound of the road. Cars often drove themselves, but such automation would never be able to replace a human when a chase or flight ensued. For that reason, driving became a specialized skill constantly kept fresh through practice. Taq’s escort kept the vehicle in manual mode. He could hear the car’s conduit lightly brush against the road’s superconductor, barely audible over the sound of tires and wind. Narrow metal plates in the middle of each lane ran along most paved roads and all main highways. The small coupe would make the entire drive without tapping its battery reserves, at least until parking.

  “How did you fool the bracelet?” the driver asked suddenly. She glanced over to judge Taq’s reaction.

  Taq froze. He stared at the driver and realized he was being driven by a security officer, a warden of the university. He spotted the butt of a handgun peeking out from under her left armpit. He stayed silent and considered jumping from the vehicle.

  He must have looked at the door handle, as she rolled her eyes in response. “I know you left sometime tonight. I just want to know how you did it.”

  Taq forced out, “How?”

  “Oh come on, you don’t think that bracelet is all we use, do you? We have our tricks. MESS is prestigious; we have a reputation that is unrealistically difficult to uphold.” She seemed quite proud. But she was right. Mage security officers were considered the most skilled, ruthless, and professional law enforcement in the modern world. They had developed technologies and techniques to deal with the unique challenges in monitoring, investigating, and if need be, defeating mages in conflict. Every mage at the university saw them as mythical beings to be feared. Almost every mage. And each had heard the stories of rogue mages put down by a warden, the specially trained and implanted MESS officers. In some stories the warden was just too fast to react to. In others their magic simply failed to work in the officer’s presence.

  “Is it true you have implants?” he inquired, as fascinated as he was intimidated. To him, MESS was another problem he may need a solution for in the future.

  She paused, deciding to throw him a bone. “Yes.”

  “What kind?”

  “The kind that makes us good at our job,” she said, grinning.

  “They say wardens have bomb implants that can level a city, is that true?”

  “Oh Creator!” she exclaimed. “Who are they? Listen, if you explain how you did it, I’m sure the hearing board will be lenient.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” said Taq. “You have one don’t you?”

  “No,” she claimed.

  “Yes.”

  “Um, no.”

  “You ever think of what you would say if you had to use it?” he trolled.

  “What I would say?” asked Tamra, confused.

  “Like you are faced with ten renegade mages, all surrounding you, but they don’t know what you are packing. So all the sudden you are like ‘Die bitches!’ right before detonating,” Taq said excitedly.

  “Alright, come on.”

  “Or ‘Surprise assholes!’”

  “Taq.”

  “Boom motherfucker!”

  “Taq!” she yelled. “I don’t have a bomb, but if I did, I wouldn’t say anything.” The car was quiet for a moment. “How did you slip your bracelet?”

  “I didn’t,” Taq lied. He doubted admission was going to get him anywhere.

  “Listen, you can’t escape, nor should you want to. We protect you more than we restrict you. Name’s Tamra,” she said.

  “You know me already, I’m sure,” Taq said coldly.

  “Yes Taq, I do,” she emphasized his name, “I honestly hope that I’m wrong or they are lenient on you when I file my report to the main office. I don’t know what this meeting with the president is about, but afterward you will be assigned an escort officer until the investigation is concluded.”

  Taq had clearly underestimated the level of privacy intrusion that MESS resorted to. The remainder of the trip was quiet. Somehow Taq felt calmer than before he knew he had gotten caught. He felt a strange sense of hope and relief that it had nothing to do with this strange meeting.

  The car turned down a well-maintained side road. The land on each side was covered with grass and trees, a somewhat rare sight. A few moments later the car stopped in the driveway of the largest house Taq had ever seen in person. Not that it had much competition. Most housing consisted of small apartments in large complexes. Midwest rural regions had had an abundance of individual houses until recently, when conductor plates and reliable automated transit allowed for efficient commuting from these areas to travel hubs and work sites. It was a matter of patience and cost to buy up the land and start stacking people on top of each other as far into the sky as physics allowed. Mage residence complexes, by comparison, were much smaller. Most mages in a complex knew each other, or at least knew of each other. Of course such basic housing would not suffice for anyone of real means. It was a big job to oversee the gifted populace of any given region, a responsibility that demanded a large paycheck.

  Tamra escorted Taq to the entrance, where a large man in a suit opened the door and motioned them inside. Moving through the hallway, Taq took note of the various pictures on the wall. He recognized none except for the current CEO of Exxon. The hall transitioned into some sort of study, with bookshelves for walls and a shiny wooden table sitting in the center. Three figures were already seated at the table, and all three stared silently at Taq and Tamra as they entered. A small olive-skinned man in a sweater vest stood up and approached Taq.

  “Tamra, thank you,” he greeted them.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be outside,” she took the initiative, rather than being excused.

  “Head to the kitchen and make yourself at home. Get something to eat. Whatever you find is fair game,” he said warmly.

  The man turned toward Taq as Tamra left. “Pleased to meet you Taq. I know that we upper level staff do not interact with our students and wards enough. I am Michael Rafir, Mr. Rafir if you like,” he exp
lained. Mr. Rafir held out his hand, and Taq shook it.

  “You’re the president,” Taq stated.

  “Yes, that’s right,” he affirmed. Mr. Rafir turned to his colleagues at the table. “And on the left is Ms. Smith, the dean of mage relations,” he motioned toward a blond woman in a maroon suit jacket and skirt. “And on the right is Mr. Kerwin—”.

  “Frank,” Mr. Kerwin corrected, raising his hand in a short waving motion.

  “Right,” Mr. Rafir said while Frank took a sip from a glass of water “It’s actually he that made this meeting happen, so if you could have a seat, we can get started.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for our other guests?” asked Ms. Smith.

  Rafir guided Taq to a seat then himself sat between Smith and Frank at the other end of the table.

  “We can, but there may be subject matter of a sensitive nature that can be excluded when we brief them,” he replied.

  “Michael has you at the top of a short list for practical magic,” Frank said, unsatisfied with the pace of the conversation. “We need to find someone, another mage, and we need to know if you can do it.” Rafir shifted in his seat uncomfortably, but stayed silent, as did Smith who simply crossed her arms.

  “A mage?” Taq asked. “Isn’t that what MESS is for?”

  “God damn it,” replied Frank in a raised voice. He turned to Rafir. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Enough blustering; I grow weary of it,” said Mr. Rafir in a soft tone. “If you want help, then talk to him.”

  Frank folded his arms, looking Taq in the eyes. “MESS can’t help. This mage isn’t wearing a bracelet, nor do we have any reliable leads, except that he’s likely still in the city.”

  “Well who are you, and why would I want to help imprison another mage?” Taq blurted out.

  Mr. Rafir went wide-eyed. “Imprison?”

  “No blustering,” Frank put up his hand to quiet Rafir. “I’m an officer from Noxcorp. This mage killed someone, then fled here, where we lost track of him,” Frank lied, knowing the mage had not actually killed anyone, yet. “Forget about the fact that he’s a mage. He ain’t your buddy. He’s dangerous and we need to find him.”