2. Welcome to Hellen
To work, then.
First a call. So I evoked a phone.
The phone
blossomed from a spark to a glowing disk. It went beep, then it said, “Thank you for using Hellen Wireless. To whom
may I direct your call?”
I said, “The Tooth
Fairy.”
The phone droned,
“Sor-ree, that is not a list-ed num-ber.”
I signed off. The
phone shrank to a point and vanished. I thought, oh well, now I gotta do some
wing-work.
I flew out of my
office, into the street. Story Avenue ,
tonight mostly closed. I flapped through
the fog. It was too foggy to see with
eyes, but my sonar worked fine.
The traffic was
light, mostly fellow sonar-users: a pod of dolphins, three orcas, and a
humpback. (The humpback was minified
down to human size. Size-adjustment is a
free public utility, here in Hellen.)
I passed a flock
of Greys, flying on radar. Their
personal radar, that is: not city radar. Show-offs. And phew, they stink! Then I pinged a gaggle of giddy ’Toons cruising
on Google.
I saw a Vegan,
hesitating at a corner, and I stopped to render assistance. The visitor from Vega was lost. It had been sent to “23rd street and 17th avenue ”.
“I see,” I said. “Well, I’m sorry to say, stranger, that was a
joke at your expense.”
“Don’t those roads
meet?” said the energy crystal from the blue star.
“Those roads are skew,” I explained. “Non-co-planar. Look, in this town you got to think 3-D! Streets run east-west, avenues go north-south,
ways head up-down!”
The Vegan said, “And
you name the roads, not the cubes or the planes?”
“It just turned
out that way. I admit it’s kind of
stupid that we name the roads but not the cubes or the planes; but as is the system is almost efficient, and
it does add character, and that’s how we do things here in Hellen.”
“But how do you
find your way? I need to get to the
recharge station!”
“Use your Google,”
I said.
The Vegan flickered.
“My what?”
“Your Google. Evoke it, in your mind’s eye. Go ahead.”
The Vegan spun and
blazed blue, then it said, “Ah. I see it now. ‘From here east on this street; up at Star Way, then north two blocks to Night
Street and Light Avenue’.”
“There you go,” I
said. “Just evoke your Google. Don’t worry about paying; it’s a free public utility. Same as radar, radio, web and phone. And flight too, of course.”
The Vegan thanked
me. I said, “Welcome to Hellen!” and
flapped away.
Traffic was light:
two demigods, a school of trilobites and a snail riding a flying saucer. I flew a cube north on Story Avenue. At the Registry of Deeds I turned down on Fortuna
Way, then three cubes down I turned west on Market Street. Seven cubes west and I was at the police
station, at the corner of State, Market and Church, catty-corner to the
Pyramid.
I flew in and flapped
over to the break-room. There I found my
contact on the force, Officer Beelzy. He
was reading this month’s issue of “Bad Cop Gazette”. I greeted him, and asked where his partner
White Mike was.
Beelzy rumbled, “The
featherhead’s testifying. A
break-and-enter case.”
“What a
coincidence. I’m here on a break-and-enter
case too.” I laid out my client’s case
to him, then asked what he and Mike know about the Tooth Fairy.
Officer Beelzy put
down the “Bad Cop Gazette”. He picked up
his pitchfork and rose to his full three meters of height. His eyes glowed red, his pointy tale twitched,
and his big black leather wings flapped, wide and slow.
Officer Beelzy has
leather wings, like me – but his wings, unlike mine, are impractical for
flight. They’re too small for his body
size. Really, his wings – like White Mike’s
feather wings – are for signaling. Just
then, by flapping them wide and slow like that, he was signaling: I’m real mad so pay close attention.
I paid close
attention.
Officer Beelzy
rumbled, “Kid, I will tell you just this once. Drop the case.”
I said, “But
Beelzy!”
“Bub,” he rumbled,
“I’m warning you because I almost like you. Some cases are nothing but trouble. This is one of them.”
“What do you
mean?”
“I mean I won’t
tell on you, but I’ve got to tell my partner. And Mike’s a featherhead. A good
cop. So he’ll follow the rules. He’ll tell the higher-ups.”
“Wait! You’re saying this case goes up?”
“I’m not saying
yes, I’m not saying no. I’m saying, lay
off.”
“I’ll track this
thing, even if it goes all the way up to the Mayor!”
Officer Beelzy’s eyes
dimmed from red to dark. He folded his
wings. “Intemperate words,” he rumbled. “You
will regret them.”
I left then,
disgusted. Down the corridor, I passed a
marble wall. To me all hard flat
surfaces are sonar mirrors, so I pinged myself. I was me, all right. Fur, claws, fangs, leather wings, and big
gnarly ears. Handsome fellow.
Out the door and
into the street. I spiraled down Church Way . Traffic was light. I passed three wizards, a school of opabinia
and a gremlin, spiraling up.
Down and down and
down, and the further down, the worse the neighborhood got. Church
Way used to be entirely a nice neighborhood, but
that was before the conmen, crooks and thugs moved in.
Down, down, down. Finally I reached my destination: The Wizard’s
Git. It’s a bar, or so its neon sign says.
Really it’s a front for the Thieves’
Guild. I figured, if I couldn’t get a
straight answer from one side of the law, then I should ask the other side.
I found the capo
of the Thieves’ Guild, holding forth at the bar as usual. I settled on the bar next to him. After a few pleasantries, I got down to
business. But when I mentioned the Tooth
Fairy, Tricky Dick got defensive.
“I deny everything,”
he said. The capo sweated. He glanced from side to side.
“Aw, come on, Tricky
Dick,” I wheedled. “I’m sure your gang would
know about a caper as crooked as this – ”
“We are not crooks! We’re the Thieves’
Guild.”
“And pillage is
your privilege! So either she’s muscling
in on your official franchise, or she’s working for you. Which is it?”
Tricky Dick said,
“Unask the question!”
“Don’t go all Zen
on me! Tell me the truth!”
“I am not a liar!”
“Meaning that you
are! I’ve had it with this cover-up!”
“I am not keeping
any secrets!”
“That settles it,
you are! I’ll track this thing, even if it goes all the
way down to your boss!” And again, I left in disgust. Looking back, I can see that those too were
intemperate words. I didn’t know that at
the time.
Out the door and
into the street. I flew up Church Way a
couple of cubes when I noticed something odd. There was no traffic at all. I was alone on the street.
No, not quite
alone. A pocket monster was there. It trilled “Cheekapoo! Cheekapoo!” and
attacked.
I had no time to
evade. The pocket monster swooped at me,
waved something—
Aack!
I was caught! In a
butterfly net! Sonar-invisible! I hadn’t
seen it!
My captor trilled,
“Cheekapoo! Cheekapoo!” and dove into a downward spiral, with me in tow. Down and down Church Way . I struggled against my bonds, in vain.
Down and down. My captor trilled “Cheekapoo! Cheekapoo!”
“Where are you
taking me?”
“Cheekapoo!”
“How far down are
we going? To the Bottom Gate? Are you taking me—”
“Cheekapoo!”
“—to Chapel Perilous?!”
Down and down and
down we twisted. There, ahead, below,
was the Bottom Gate. We swooped aside at
the last moment, and entered Chapel Perilous.
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