0 comments/ 53784 views/ 0 favorites Heaven By: nakedangelina How long have I spent dreaming of you? I am unsure now, as the days, months, and years have passed me by. I have always considered myself bisexual, enjoying men and women equally, but when I think of you, so many things fall to the wasteside. Here you are now, standing in front of me, naked, bold, and proud. I thought for so long that I scared you. You, being happily married, very straight, but always interested in my sexual encounters, with men and women. "You are beautiful" I say, meaning each word. You blush, and I am concerned I have made you uncomfortable. "How can anyone be so stunning in blue jean overalls?" you ask, as I stand, my nipples erect, in front of you in my casual attire. "I should shower." I say, as I am suddenly now shy, unsure of myself in front of your beauty that is calling to me. You smile at me, as if you know I am not sure what to do. As you move towards me, I watch your body, long and lean. Your breasts are so perfect, not large nor small, just right. You have shaved recently, you have a small tizzy of new hair growing in over your pussy. Your legs are so tan and long, and your red toenails are sexy and elegant. You touch my neck smoothly with the back of your hand, looking down on me as you are several inches taller than I could ever wish to be. "Shall I help you?" you ask to my utter amazement. I decide then and there to take charge, full force ahead, not to disappoint you. "Yes, please." I say, my courage showing. You unhook my overalls quickly, and they drop to the floor with a soft swoshing sound. I am now naked in front of you, I know you realized I had nothing on but those overalls. My nipples are erect and I can feel the warm tingly feeling between my legs that creates warmth in my tummy. I am now grateful that I took the time to shave my legs this morning in the shower. Your touch runs very softly, gently over the front of my body. Almost as though you were afraid I might break if you put your hands on me. I shiver and I close my eyes. My God, this cannot be happening. The many dreams I have had, the many nights I have spent wishing you were in my bed, while I pleasured someone else. You have never been with a woman, we have talked sex too many times in the past to count. I know I can bring more love and light into your life than you have ever known, and tonight I will show that to you. I open my eyes and gently pull you towards me, your wet body engulfing my dry one. I kiss you very, very softly, gently to let you know what is to come. Your tongue enters my mouth and the heat in my middle increases. I could swear that sparks flew, electricity ran between us. I lean in quickly and begin the warm water running. Although you have just left this shower, I pull you in again. I sit you on the marble seat at the end of the shower and I move the showerhead so it hits your breasts. I kneel in front of you, bar of soap in my hands. I begin to wash you, rubbing your beautiful breasts, your nipples taking notice, and your eyes moving to the back of your head as you tilt your head and moan. I lick the soap off of them, being gentle, sucking on your nipples. I begin to feel my own juices, running down my legs with the warm shower water. I wash down your body, not touching your womanhood. I cleanse your legs, and kiss your feet, as you bow your back, as if to tell me to touch you . I then stand you up to rewash your long red hair. I massage your scalp, and rub the shampoo all over the front and back of your body. Suddenly you grab me and kiss me, hard, and I know you are ready. Your hand slides between my legs, and you moan as you feel my wetness. Not here, I think, I have dreamt of this for too long. I want you in my bed, among the silk and satin, to become mine. I shut the shower off, and embrace you with a towel. You reach for me again, kissing me more gently this time, as if to let me know you are mine for the taking. I do not dry off, nor take the time to dry you off completely, as I lead you to my bed. As I lay you down you spread your legs, and I see your heaven. It takes every ounce of control I have to move away, to light candles in the room, put soft music on the stereo. You are smiling at me as I move over you, on top, halfway, and begin to touch your body. "I have dreamed about this" you say, and I do not say a word as I begin to kiss your nipples, my hands exploring your thighs at the same time. Your moans become louder as I kiss your nipples, biting them gently, pinching them hard. I put butterfly kisses on your stomach, scared from having your children, and beautiful still. I nibble down the outside of your hips, and move over the inside of your thighs. Again, you spread your legs, and as I see heaven this time, I quickly flick my tongue over your clit. You moan my name, bowing your body up to me, and I begin to use my whole mouth over you, flickering my tongue, inserting my fingers into you, rubbing all the right places. Your wetness is all over me, your smell makes me high, and I rock with your body until the bliss sets in. You grab my hair, encouraging me to be harder with you. You are calling my name and you tell me as you are coming, you know how much that excites me. I have my own small orgasm as I watch from your mound when you scream and tense up, the waves washing over you, taking you over in such a way that I become part of your heaven. I lick you once more, gently and you shiver, pulling me up on you. You kiss me, full on my mouth, and I feel your soul. I softly run my hands over your body, as you curl up in the fetal position towards me. You open your eyes then, and you tell me that you love me. "I love you, Jessie" I say, and I am sure this is what life has intended for me. It is to be with this woman, to love her so fully, to bring her to this place and to love her down from it. Heaven I woke in a sea of light. The pungent smell was familiar to me and it was everywhere. The sound was a deep moaning, like thousands, maybe millions of voices crying out with pleasure. What was this place? I sat up, finding myself surrounded by a thick mist...and WOMEN. Naked women, and lots of them. They all stared at me like a pack of hungry wolves surrounding thier prey. I moved to the edge of the enormous bed where I lay. It was then that I realized I was young again, not much older than 18 and I too was completely naked. One of the women stepped forward and came to me. I recognized her. It was my mother. She was glorious to behold and had to be in her late 30's. The age she was when I was a teen. I gaped at her enormous breasts, swaying back and forth as she stode towards me. Her legs were long and milky white, her snatch concealed by a thick coat of dark pubic hair. Stopping before me, she stared in to my eyes and gave me that warm glowing motherly smile I remember. "Welcome to your heaven, my love. We're here to please you...forever." She said. Other women began to come forward, all the same age as my mother. I knew each of them. They were women from my life. In the first group was my wife, who died several years before me. With her was her mother and my wife's two twin sisters. The women in her family were all big breasted women and as I watched the pounds of jiggling tit-flesh move towards me, my cock began to rise. They surrounded me. My mother and my wife's mother smiled wickedly at one another, acknowledging my legthening dick. I looked at my wife's twin sisters as they giggled, staring me down like sex-crazed nymphos. This shocked me a bit. They were both happily married women with large families. In fact, most all these women were, but now they all seemed focused on one thing, getting thier hands on me. The next group came forward, which included my three sisters and thier daughters, all increadibly beautiful women who I never dreamed I be seeing completely exposed like this. With them were my two grandmothers. The next group contained aunts and cousins followed by women whom I had worked with and known for various reasons throughout my life. Finally, I had a group of close to fifty women surrounding me on all sides. Tits and ass in all shapes and sized. I suddenly realized that each one of these women I at one time in my life had wondered what it would be like to fuck. I had a feeling I was about to find out. Women giggled and whispered as they watched my awkwardness. I looked at my oldest brother's wife and she stared back at me, rolling her tongue across her lips. My grandmother stared at my erection hungrily and one of my cousins standing next to her did the same, gritting her teeth like a sex-starved whore. The pungent swell of wet cunt burned my nostrils. One of my aunts glared into my eyes silently mouthing her intent. "I'm gonna fuck you so good!" Suddenly, hands began to push me onto the bed and within seconds I found myself buried in women. I felt a warm wet mouth swallow my cock to the balls and looked down to see my mother greedily nursing my swollen prick. Tongues flailed around my balls and chest, anxiously waiting thier turn. I felt soft, pillowly tit-flesh pressed against my body, stiff nipples craping across my skin. My mothers hairy muff decsended upon my face and I was smothered in a moist fleshy twat. I sucked her fat clit into my mouth and began to nurse. A mouth replaced my mother's and sucked hard and fast, tongue rolling around my mushroom tip. Then I felt what must have been a dozen wet tongues flailing eagerly. Every inch of my cock was being licked and probed, tongues dueling with one another like hungry snakes, fighting for position on my meat. Then my sister-in-law worked her lips over the head of my dick and orally fucked my shaft down into her hungry gullet. Another cunt replaced my mother-in-law's on my face. I knew it was my wife's. It wasn't long before mouths were replaced by pussies. One cunt after another rode my prick, some tight, others loose, but each one unique. It wasn't long before my balls were soaked in the juices of our incestual fuck. Time stood still. I fucked and came and fucked again. I was, it seemed, in this place called heaven, a fucking machine. In this wonderful place, not a second would pass that my cock wasn't fucking the mouth, cunt or ass of one of these beautiful women. I would cum in buckets and never tire. There could be no greater feeling than seeing your mother scream with orgasm, again and again as I worked my cock deep within her pouch. No greater feeling than listening to your balls beat against your brother's wife's ass as your lay between her outstretched legs humping your meat in and out of her most sacred place. Married women, fucking and sucking on my swollen pole...forever. This was indeed heaven! Heaven 695RC Author's note As with many of my stories, not much in the way of sex. Hope you enjoy it anyway. Talemaster * His Eminence was dying. He welcomed it. A life of deprivation and hardship would finally get its just reward. He felt sure he would go to Heaven. He had more than made up for that one event in his life where he had taken the wrong turn. God had forgiven him. There could be no doubt. The waxen cheeks of the old man blushed for a brief moment as the memory of this fated event welled up inside him as though it had only just occurred. How powerful a memory can be, he thought, as the waves of shame washed over him with undiminished fury. I was only thirteen, it was a mistake, stop, please stop ... the old man muttered to himself as he was forced to relive that dreadful moment once more. *** It had been a perfect day, his first time away from home. His parents had misgivings about sending their son to the summer camp, but finally gave in. He enjoyed the games and the camaraderie. As an only child of staid, elderly and deeply religious parents he knew little of such things. He was lying on his bunk, wearing only a pair of underpants; exhausted, but happy. He must have dozed off. Loud laughter awoke him. There by his bunk stood Tommy, the school bully and Ned, one of his cronies. "Look at the bastard, he's got a hard on you could crack a safe with. Bet he doesn't know what to do with it!" Tommy was pointing at the boy's erect penis, laughing so hard, tears were streaming down his face. "Want to show him what its for," Ned screeched eagerly. "You bet!" Before he had a chance to defend his modesty Ned was holding him down and Tom had stripped off his pants. Tom gripped his member with one hand and his scrotum with the other. The boy tried to struggle free but Ned was too strong. He felt a twinge of shame when he realised that Tommy's grip on his penis felt nice, very nice. A turmoil of contradictory feelings flooded him. His struggles stopped as the feeling in his groin intensified. Tommy's practised strokes sent wave after wave of sheer pleasure through his body. Ned was no longer holding him, there was no need. His surrender was complete. He wished the experience would last forever. When he finally erupted, his seed gushing all over his abdomen and chest, Tommy screamed: "Now he knows!" Ned scooped up some of the semen with his finger and rubbed it across the boy's lips. "How did you like your little wank, pretty boy," he teased. Without waiting for an answer, the boys ran off, laughing loudly. The boy lay there for a moment, spent. Then realisation hit him. He had sinned! In the worst possible way! With horror he stared at the evidence of his depravity scattered across his body. For hours afterwards he stood under the shower, scrubbing himself with fury, trying to come clean. It was useless. No soap could touch what he was contaminated with. Next morning he joined the queue for breakfast, his eyes downcast, still trying to deal with the aftermath of his experience. He did not notice Ned coming up behind him. "Like some more?" Ned's hand rubbed his buttocks as he whispered in the boy's ear. His penis responded instantly, straining the cloth of his trousers, trying to break free. He could feel his resistance melting, wishing to surrender again. Then something inside him screamed: "No! Not again! Never again! Away from here, away from temptation before it is too late!" Blinded by tears he ran from the dining room to the nearest phone. He told his parents he was homesick. His parents picked him up in the afternoon. *** "Go forth my son, and sin no more," the old parish priest had said at confession. Two Hail Mary's and three Our Father's did not seem to be a severe enough penalty for a sin of this magnitude. The boy decided on his own penance. He would dedicate his life to God and forgo all earthly desires. He would scourge himself until all evil was extinguished from his soul. And so it went. Priest at twenty-five, bishop at forty, cardinal at sixty. A distinguished career. He stopped flagellating himself when he became too feeble to wield the whip. He felt clean now. God had accepted his penance and absolved him from further punishment by depriving him of the strength to continue the self castigation that had been part of his life for so long. *** "Father forgive me, for I have sinned," the old man muttered aloud. "I have forgiven you my son," a rich baritone voice said in answer. It took all his effort to turn his head enough to see the stranger at his bedside. "Thank you Lord," the cardinal said. "I knew I would be forgiven for my trespass." "I think you are mistaken. I was not talking about your trespass, I was referring to your wasted life." The stranger fluffed up a pillow and propped the old man up so he could see more of his surrounds. "Besides, I am not your Lord, nor are you dead yet." "Who are you? What do you want of me?" "Let us say I am here to offer you a last chance. It grieves me to see you suffer that much. Let me show you what could be yours." With that the stranger pointed to the wall. The wall became transparent and revealed the view of a lush meadow. It was a brilliant day. People were about; laughing, drinking, picnicking and ... "They are fornicating!" The cardinal gasped and closed his eyes in disgust. "I know who you are! Begone Satan! You are not going to deprive me of Heaven!" The sudden exertion had been too much for the dying man. Exhausted he sank back into his pillows. "I am trying to save you from Heaven, you fool," Lucifer said gently. "Hear me out before you reject me." The cardinal, his eyes still tightly closed, was too feeble to protest. "You have suffered much, serving an abomination," Lucifer continued. "Eons ago I saw what He was and distanced myself from Him. The millennia have not mellowed Him. If you, but for a minute, had considered the flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, the sacrifices and wars in His name, even the sacrifice of His only son for His own glory, you would have realised long ago which one of us is the evil one. And look what He did to His chosen people! Those poor Jews! The most persecuted people on earth. And their reward? The promised land. A barren piece of ground that has seen nothing but death, destruction, hatred and fanaticism ever since. "What He demands is total obedience and sacrifice and then He wants to be praised on top of it! All He ever gave in return was hardship. "I, on the other hand, have celebrated the pleasures of life. If there is evil in that I fail to see it." "Begone Satan," the cardinal cried with his last strength. "Thou shalt not have me!" "Have it your way," Lucifer said sadly. "I am sorry you are so blind." *** "Welcome to Heaven." An old man with an enormous golden key in his hand addressed him. "Thank you, St. Peter," the cardinal replied. "Please proceed to room 3011 for your introduction. You will be given a schedule and the rules of Heaven will be explained to you there. Dominus vobiscum!" "Et cum spiritu tuo." The cardinal went down the corridor St. Peter indicated and entered room 3011. Room 3011 was a modern auditorium with a capacity of about two hundred people. There were several people already in the audience. He quietly took a seat and waited. He felt elated. He had made it. In spite of all adversity he had finally gone to Heaven. As the auditorium filled the cardinal studied the expression on the faces of the arrivals. He found his own feelings of elation, excitement and anticipation reflected in their eyes. The lights dimmed. A spotlight focussed on the curtain. Slowly the curtain opened, revealing a small stage. A tall, blonde haired man with penetrating blue eyes and ruggedly handsome features entered from the left. He was dressed in white flowing robes with a gold border on his sleeves and around his neck. A golden sash girdled his waist. He was barefoot. *** "Welcome to Heaven. I am Archangel Michael. I am here to explain to you your new home. "All of you are shortly to be moved to Heaven 695RC. "695RC is reserved for people such as yourselves, who have served the Lord with dedication through His holy institution, the Roman Catholic Church. "Before you arrive there you will proceed through the Second Gate. There your bodies will be transformed. You will no longer be subject to the needs of mortal flesh. Your new bodies will be quite incorruptible. They will not need sustenance, therefore there is no need for orifices of evacuation, neither is there need for reproductive organs. You will never feel tired, nor will you ever need sleep again. "You will be pleased to know that from now on you will be able to devote every minute of your time to the service of the Lord. "Here we have no day or night as you know it. Instead, there are colour periods. Each colour period has a special significance. "Period yellow is 'Gloria in excelsis deo,' a period of praise. "Pink period is reserved for 'Hallelujah', another period of praise. "The green period is for the 'Credo', where you re-affirm your faith. "Blue is Pater Noster which is the holiest of the periods, as you will recite the Lord's prayer as taught by Jesus, His only begotten son. "You will find a more thorough explantation in your Handbook to 695RC which will be handed to you shortly. "Which just leaves one more point to be covered right now. In charge are the angels. Their word is law and therefore must be obeyed. They have the power to compel you to follow their directions, though this is rarely necessary. We prefer you to render your service to the Lord willingly, and I am certain you are all too dedicated to the Lord for us to have to resort to such an extreme measure. "The rank of the angels is determined by their sleeve and collar markings as well as their belts. "Archangels gold, Cherubim red, Seraphim blue and so forth. You will find the details in your handbook. "That just about covers it. Any questions?" "When do we get to see the Lord?" The question that was on everyone's mind was voiced by an old nun in the front row. "The coming of the Lord is close at hand," the Archangel replied. "But we thought ..." The voice of the old nun trailed into nothingness as she tried to hide her disappointment. "The ways of the Lord are inscrutable. He will reveal Himself when He judges it proper. In the meantime you must be patient. Patience is the supreme virtue. You are surrounded by eternity. Days, years, centuries, even millennia mean nothing here. Be patient. The Lord will come! Soon." "Now where have I heard all this before," the Cardinal wondered briefly before brushing away his thought as cynical and unworthy of him. An angel with green markings was handing out the handbooks. 'I must look up what he is,' the Cardinal thought as he picked up his copy. He was about to thumb through the slim booklet when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Please come with me your Eminence. It is time for the Second Gate." *** The Second Gate was a narrow passage bathed in pink light. He shed his clothing as he was instructed and slowly walked the twenty yards or so to the exit. As he walked he became increasingly aware of a feeling of well being that he had not experienced since he was a young man. Elated he leapt through the exit into a small ante room where another angel was waiting for him. The angel handed him a white robe and a white belt. Before he dressed he looked at his new body. The skin was flawless, like polished marble. There was no body hair, nor were there any signs of gender. His nipples and penis were gone, even his navel was no longer there. No warts, no moles, not even a wrinkle! Just pure unblemished white skin, perfect curves, firm solid flesh sculptured to perfection. He donned his robes and followed the angel to a jetty where several boats were moored. Wide open barges with seats. Except, there was no water. They seemed to float in mid air. The angel motioned him to a barge that displayed a large sign 695RC. He was one of the last passengers to board the vessel. Soon the vessel was moving noiselessly forward. As they left the harbour the barge was enveloped by a green mist. For what seemed like hours there were no discernible features, just green fog. Suddenly they were through. The Cardinal stared at the spectacle. It was beautiful! They were in open space. Before them were galaxies of stars, glowing with a soft, bluish white sheen, arranged in perfect symmetry around an imaginary axis. The barge headed for a cluster to the right. As they came closer the cardinal realised that this was not a star system as he knew it. All the stars appeared to be of the same size all perfectly spherical. They then passed one of the stars at fairly close range. This was no star! It looked like an enormous metallic globe some two kilometers in diameter. It was marked 302JW. He turned to one of the angels next to him and asked what it meant. "Jehovah's Witnesses Nr. 182," was the curt reply, "this is one of their heavens." "Do you mean to say they have a heaven of their own?" The cardinal was staring at another of the globes that had just come into view. It was marked 102SUM. "And what is this?" The angel appeared somewhat annoyed at the cardinal's questions. Nevertheless, he did offer an explanation. "This means Sunni Muslims Nr. 102. All the religions have their own heavens. It is necessary. There could not be a coherent service if we brought all the rituals together in one locality. The confusion of languages and variations in worship would create disharmony, to say the least. We try to keep them separated according to dogma and culture. "Anyone who worships and praises the Lord goes to Heaven. It does not matter to the Lord what form that worship takes, or if the dogma is correct. None of your dogmas can be correct, by definition. God is unfathomable! "In his infinite mercy he embraces anyone who worships Him, however demented the ideas that led to it." With that he abruptly turned around and went to the bow. They passed hundreds, perhaps thousands of heavens before they reached their destination. 695RC. The yellow markings on the silver grey globe were clearly visible now. Soon they would be home. As they approached an opening appeared in the globe and a platform slid into place. The barge slowed and manoeuvred into position. Several angels fastened the vessel to the platform. One of the Seraphim climbed aboard and addressed the passengers. "You will depart in groups of five. Each group will be assigned an escort. The angel assigned to your group is there to help you settle in and familiarise you with your duties. He is the representative of the Lord and must be obeyed in all respects. His directions are not to be questioned." With that the Seraph turned around and went back into the globe. The cardinal's group was one of the last to disembark. The angel in charge was a rather stern character of few words. He motioned the group to follow him and they climbed the steps to the platform, entered the globe and followed a narrow, brightly lit corridor to a lift. The angel picked up a microphone and said: "Level 317." With a soft hum the lift started its ascent. When the lift door opened the cardinal stood there riveted. He had never seen anything like it. The globe was hollow. Enormous platforms, like grandstands in a football stadium, jutted towards the centre, packed with people. In the centre of the globe a gigantic crucifix appeared suspended in mid air slowly revolving around its axis. Below the crucifix on a suspended platform were a group of Cherubim that appeared to lead the prayers. The globe glowed blue. "Move!" The angel in charge prodded the cardinal in the back. Still stunned the cardinal moved forward. "Follow me." The angel went down the aisle for about half a kilometer and then motioned the group to take their places in a pew. The angel remained standing in the aisle. "Sed libera nos a malo..." the congregation prayed. "Amen." "There must be over a million people in here," the cardinal reflected. What a service! He felt odd. It had been a long time since he had been in the pews with the general congregation. Then the light turned yellow. "Gloria in excelsis deo" the Cherubim intoned. "Et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis," the cardinal responded. "What did you say?" The angel at his side looked angry. "I gave the proper reply, did I not?" "Do you know what it means?" "Of course I do. You said: 'Glory to God in Heaven,' and I replied: 'And on earth peace to people of good will.' Isn't that correct?" "Do you think that the Lord is a liar? When have you ever seen peace on earth amongst people of good will? This is something your church has said, not the Lord. That was never part of the deal. Hear me?" "Yes sir, I hear." "Don't let it happen again! It is: Gloria in excelsis deo, laudamus te, benedicimus te, adoramus te, glorificamus te, and so forth. Understand?" "Yes sir." The light changed to pink. Time for the Hallelujahs. The pink period went slowly. 'just how many hallelujahs can you utter without getting bored' went through the cardinals mind. Now green, Credo time. "Credo in unum deum...." The cardinal was feeling somewhat restless. "Patrem omnipotentem...." 'Is this the promised reward for all the deprivation and pain I have suffered,' he asked himself, rapidly sobering from his earlier elation. "Factorem caeli et terrae...." His thoughts were not with it any longer Mechanically he went through the rest of the service when the background changed to blue. "Pater noster ... qui es in caelis ... adveniat regnum tuum ... siccut in caelo et in terra ... panem nostrem quotidianum da nobis hodie ... et dimitte nobis ... debitoribus nostris ... Et ne nos inducas intentationem...." "Sed libera nos a malo...." "Amen." Yellow again - More Glorias! And as realisation began to dawn the cardinal wondered: "Exactly how long is eternity?" Heaven & Earth Greater New York Jinro could see cranes dancing in the imperial garden at Kyoto. Their antics, wings flapping, necks dipping and gyrating, were graceful, choreographed by evolution over thousands of years. The vision was faded like an old photo or distant memory. He'd left Japan with to live with his American father when he was 9, and filled his head with the heat of Texas until he'd run away at 17. He'd flown to Florida, then DC and points north, until one day he'd come upon the urban core of New York and settled to roost. Startled by an unseen menace, the flock took to the air. As Jinro watched, four became eight, then sixteen, and thirty-two as each flap of bleached, downy feathers added to the number of cranes in the sky. The beat of thundering wings became deafening as the group passed overhead, beaks and eyes and legs the only flashes of color on an unending field of white. In an instant they were gone, the only mark of their passing was the rapidly fading sound of their wings as they disappeared like the sunset behind Kyoto Castle. Jinro slowly opened his eyes, woken by the few beads of sweat trickling down his brow, soaking the pillow and staining the patterned silk pillowcase under his head. The sound of his dream cranes was no more than a tickle in the back of his mind. The slap of the ceiling fan over the bed made him wonder if he'd heard them at all. The dream was familiar, one that he'd come to recognize as a reoccurring harbinger of change. For better or worse he never knew, only that it was coming, the signs were always the same... a dream of flight. He sat up and turned on the desk-lamp. There was a red-and-gold pack of Dunhills on the nightstand. He took stock of the world around him as he reached for them. It was still dark and shafts of light from the streetlamp outside his building filtered in, slicing through the gaps in the Rattan blinds over the window. "Mesuinu. " He muttered. Whoever she was, the woman he had been with only hours before had smoked the last of his cigarettes, leaving only a few dry shreds of tobacco to rattle around in the bottom of the empty pack. Live for one night only! Screamed words from the top of a club flyer, laying folded on the radio-clock. Jinro crumpled the empty pack into a ball and tossed it towards the wastebasket, then unfolded the flyer, it opened with a sticky crackle. There was a ring of burgundy on the back, the imprint of a kiss that accompanied her name and number, written in lipstick in the absence of anything more suitable. He snickered and lifted the sheet that covered his naked frame. There was a ring of the same color around his penis. He rolled onto his stomach and reached underneath the bed, removed a shoe-box he found there and lifted the lid. There were stacks of paper inside; bar napkins, matchbook covers, business cards, corners torn off of newspaper pages, all of them carried a name and a number- names that he had forgotten and numbers he had never called. He tossed the flyer on the top of the heap and replaced the lid. The box went back under the bed and he pulled the covers back up to his chest, then turned off the light. Jinro came awake when he heard the first knock on his front door. He turned onto his side and checked the clock, then mashed a pillow over his head. The knocking went on for ten minutes before he decided that the knocker wasn't going away. It couldn't have been the Jehovah's, the clock read 4:15, they never came out before 7:00. Work. It's got to be work. Son-of-a-bitch. He thought as he levered himself out of bed and donned his robe, irritation stoking the angry heat he could feel building inside of him. It was his first day off in weeks and he'd been looking forward to sleeping in. If this is Walter I'm gonna punch him in his fat face. The drumming stopped only when Jinro pressed the green 'admit' button and the door slid out from under rapping knuckles. His partner stood framed between the doorjambs. The man smiled and said, "Rise and shine, buddy-boy. Justice never sleeps." "Go to hell, Walter." Jinro muttered. The lights in the corridor were bright and hurt his eyes. He lifted a hand to shade himself from the offending glare. "No can do, my friend," Walter said and turned as a neighbor down the hall stepped out of her door, an elderly woman with a weathered face and a shopping cart in the hook of one arm. She waved at Jinro and disappeared down the stairs. "Flushing is in the toilet today, off-limits to everything except tactical squads." "What? The Rippers and Wolverines are out again, huh?" Jinro leaned against the doorframe and made room for his partner to enter. "Give the man a prize," Walter said and sighed. "The public defender thought the tacticals were a little rough on the last roundup. He got Judge Dower to cut 'em a break." "Those punks," Jinro said. The gang problem was exploding. The undesirables from the Terran hinterlands that arrived daily by the freight-load were making the streets a menace. "We should stop putting them in the lockup and let tactical take care of them, for good." Walter squeezed his considerable bulk through the door and drifted into the kitchen. He turned on the lights and took a cup from the stack in the sink, waving it at the surroundings. "This place is a dump, Jinro. Why do you have to live in Little Beijing?" "Because I can go out for a drink and not have to sign out with the guard at the gate," Jinro said and allowed the door to slide closed. "I like it here, there's a lot of tradition in this neighborhood, it's got ambiance. I got a real nice view of the skyline from the roof of my building. What more could you ask for?" "That's a crock if I ever heard one," Walter said and opened a cupboard. He found the jar of instant coffee on the second try. "All the transients left when the slopes started moving in. Oh, wait, that was when you moved in, too... sorry." "Here I blend, at least until I have to talk to somebody, besides it's my dump until they tear it down. You got five minutes to say your peace before I kick you out and go back to bed." "Some way to treat your partner," Walter said and rinsed a spoon he found in the sink. "At least you're not under water restriction today." "This is my only day off, Walter. Four minutes, fifty-seven seconds... fifty-six... fifty-five... " Jinro said and twisted to check the clock hanging above the Mariachi HDTV box on the wall, a flat panel that currently displayed the "Zen Garden" wallpaper graphic. "Alright, alright. The department needs a favor." Walter said while Jinro fought to keep a disgusted grimace off of his face. "Really. What kind of favor?" He said, knowing that whatever it was would cost him sleep, too much of which he'd been losing to job related stressors. "We need a team to go sign off on someone they found last night in the Prospect Park area. Some exec from AgraCon got himself crushed by a subway train. Everyone else is already assigned so that just leaves us." "You don't need me," Jinro said and yawned. "Do it yourself." "I'd do it myself, but the captain insists on sending a team. They want it done by the book. Captain Dravenheath said that she'd make it up to you though. Besides, the AgraCon crew's already there. You'll be back before noon." "I'd better be, and tell Dravenheath that I want at least a long weekend for this." Jinro said as Walter programmed the faucet and stirred. Steaming water poured over the flakes of instant coffee he'd added to the cup. Once they'd dissolved, Walter took a sip and smiled. In his book it wasn't coffee if it didn't sour as it went down. "Ahh, that's the stuff," Walter said. "Sure, I'll tell her... when she comes back from Lake Placid on Monday." "You're a bastard, Walter. Keep it up and I'll have to shoot you." Walter rinsed out a second mug for his partner and spooned in some crystals. He shook his head at Jinro in mock disgust, as if he'd confirmed something in his mind and found it distasteful. "That's what happens when it's bad news," Walter said and dropped the spoon into the sink. "Everyone always wants to shoot the messenger-boy." Jinro accepted the cup and bore it into his bedroom. He took a cautious sip and toed through the clothes hamper. The creases on yesterday's slacks were still faintly visible, so he set the cup down and pulled them on. "Not me, good messengers are too hard to come by," He said as he buttoned on a clean shirt. His empty stomach rumbled at the thought of a large, high-caloric meal saturated in Butter Pecan syrup with a yellow scoop of soy-butter melting on top. "Can we get breakfast first?" "No need, kemosabe. I got a box of Krispy-Kreme's in the car." "No breakfast? This must be some crisis." *** "So who's the corpse?" Jinro said as rain pounded the windshield. They rolled down the cruise lane of Shore Parkway. The traffic to their right, reduced to a crawl by the ongoing widening of the super highway, was as bad as it had been all month. The big board at TRANSIT control reported seventeen miles of grid-seizure caused, and exacerbated by, the continuing deluge. The lines of mostly electric vehicles stretched as far South as Coney Island and as far North as the checkpoints into Rosedale. "We should've taken the skyway." Walter groused and tapped the brakes of their internal combustion powered ride: a blue, unmarked Crown Vic. "It's worth the extra five bucks, I'll tell you that, thank God we get to use the HOV lanes." The cloud-cover had reduced the ambient light to a morbid gray and the rain cut visibility to a few dozen feet. Drivers were going to have to see them coming so they ran with full lights and sirens. The car was sealed, well-shielded against atmosphere and sound. Though the siren was loud enough to incapacitate at close range, the only thing that came through into the passenger cabin was a subtle groaning. "Nice of you to think of that now," Jinro said and filled out a union grievance form to ease his displeasure at the upset of his off-time schedule. "Walter... " "What?" Walter said and shot him a sideways glance. "The corpse?" "Oh, there's no corpse," Walter said as he took a sip from a fresh cup of Kwik&Go coffee. Jinro took a deep breath and allowed the unpleasant feeling he felt for the day begin to dissipate. "But the victim's name is Leonard Dean. He's the... correction, he was the associate director of human resources at AgraCon. Some big-wig." "An associate director, huh? No wonder they're having a fit," Jinro said as he folded the grievance, took the last donut and pitched the empty box into the back. "So what happened?" Walter, wedged behind the steering column, replied with a shrug. "Somehow he wandered into a subway tunnel and got hit by the G train a little after one," Walter said. "They were scraping Leonard goo off the walls when I called you this morning. It took them four hours to stop the trains." "Then thanks for letting me sleep in." Jinro said as he finished his donut and sucked the sugary glazing off of his fingers. Walter continued as if he hadn't heard. "Now everything's fucked... the subways, the traffic, even the bullet train is shut down," He said. "The transit grid from New York to Washington is totally locked up." "AgraCon has got that kind of pull?" Jinro said and felt his face screw into a grudgingly impressed look. "Apparently." "Damn, so that's why there's all this traffic. How'd they ID him?" "Transit's got surveillance footage of him going into the tunnel... they said he was armed with a pistol and talking to himself, laughing like a damned fool when he got hit." "God I hate cleaning up after these mental cases." Walter nodded an arm across his forehead, then checked the mirror for oncoming traffic before inserting their ground-car into into the traffic cruise lane. The on-board computer took control and gave the Crown Vic gas, easily moving into the open spot the TRANSIT computer selected. He pushed his seat back and reached for his coffee. He slurped down a mouthful and wiped his lips with back of his hand. Once the back of the hand had been wiped on a pant-leg, he set the cup back in the holder and said, "They found some scraps of clothing around the front axle of the train... DNA cross-match of specimens collected on-scene confirms the name we pulled off his ID." "So what the hell are we supposed to do? This sounds like a AgraCon problem to me." Jinro said and scrutinized the traffic crawling along beside them. For the 24 hour/ 7 day-a-week corporate society, the 3rd shift was getting off and the first shift coming on, in the globalized market, nothing stopped for commerce. "Probably just make sure that they get their baggies labeled right. It happened outside of their Arco so we technically got jurisdiction. AgraCon is going to handle the cleanup. They're just waiting for us to get there and sign off on what was left." "Why don't we just let their security boys handle it? The guy was one of theirs... they're already on scene... I need sleep," Jinro said and rubbed his eyes. "We should save ourselves the drive. Besides, since when did they ever start asking for our help?" "Beats me... none of them do... but AgraCon wants us involved." "And they're waiting on us?" "Yep." Walter replied, seemingly ambivalent to anything beyond the front of the hood. "Walter!" Jinro shouted as he saw an object emerge from the mist ahead, directly in their path... several objects. "Brakes!" Walter jammed his foot down on the brake pedal, overriding automatic control, bringing the patrol car hydroplaning to a halt, inches from the frightened faces of an immigrant mother and three children. America wasn't a place that everyone could afford, but it was a place everyone wanted to be. Shanties of cardboard and plastic had begun creeping onto highways like Kudzu. The TRANSIT computer did what it could to steer the flow around the hazards on the road, but "terminal vehicle-pedestrian merges" continued to happen. Desperation made people take dangerous chances. "You okay?" Jinro said and gave his partner an appraising glance. A large bead of sweat rolled down from Walter's thinning hairline as his chest heaved. They'd have to be more careful now that they had reached the city proper. "Yeah. Fuck me... looking to get hit is what they're doing," He said. "You know how many road-kills the state patrol has been scraping up around here?" "What are we going to do, put all of them in the lockup? I'm sure that they know what kind of chances they're taking. As far as I'm concerned, that's punishment enough." "Send them to Canada." Walter said and turned up the siren until the family moved their meager belongings to the side. He floored the accelerator and peeled away once enough space had been cleared for the car to get by. "They've got the room, it's too bad nobody wants to go." "Hey, Walter." Jinro said and watched the wet family receding. "What?" Walter snapped back. "Aren't you glad we don't have to take the subway to work?" "I'd be even happier if we have our own air transport." Walter said and looked over his shoulder as he signaled for a lane change. "That way at least we wouldn't have to deal with the traffic down here." "Keep dreaming." *** There were other patrol cars already on the scene with blue and red strobes flashing from their rooftops when they arrived. Little Beijing still closed early and wouldn't open again until 9 A.M. The area had grown from the Asian seed neighborhoods around Sunset Park, and now covered multiple square miles, generally considered to be North to Atlantic Avenue, East to the Ocean Parkway, then down to Oriental Boulevard. Jinro surveyed the area as he pulled himself out of the car. The streets were empty except for a few transients in stairwells or the few curious souls peeking through bamboo-slat blinds to see what the all the commotion was about. A robotic sweeper-vehicle followed the curb down Prospect Avenue, brushes spinning, catching up the debris from the previous day that made its way into the gutters, making programmed rounds ad infinitum. The Metro police force had been having less equal success in keeping the human trash off the streets. There was just too much. The machine was oblivious to the goings on, and Jinro often felt the same way. The air reeked of sour vegetables from the many shops and salt air blowing in from the harbor. The signs hanging over the shops and restaurants were entirely in Chinese, as were the street signs and billboards. "I'm glad this happened now," Walter said as he put the car in "Park" and opened the door. "This part of the city hardly even looks like it's fucking America anymore." "I know," Jinro said and turned his collar up to keep out the drizzle. A stained NY MetroStars cap kept the slop off of his head. "This time tomorrow and there'll be slopes packed in here like they're still on the boat." "Easy, buddy," Walter said. The Crown Vic groaned on its shocks as he climbed out. "People mistake you for one of those just off the boat types more often than you think." "I know," Jinro said and hammered the fresh pack of Dunhills against his palm to tamp down the Tobacco. "They'd probably never guess I'm from Scottsdale, huh?" "Nope." The Lunar New Year was two days away. Soon the streets would be jammed with people watching parades, setting off fireworks, and getting drunk. The whole quarter would be shut down to vehicle traffic because of the crowds. They would be thick enough to make driving difficult and investigative work impossible. AgraCon would have gotten a condolence letter from the department saying there was nothing they could do. The air was brightly lit by the heroic amounts of neon being used in signage of all various types; some plain and matter-of-fact, others shaped like pagodas or lotus flowers or in other ornate designs that hung over the streets. There was a pair of Mobile Patrol street-pounders bulked out in ballistic armor and helmets standing watch, one on each side of the police tape barricading the entrance to the Prospect Park Station. Jinro flashed his badge at them and ducked beneath the plastic straps. The old station echoed as each step towards the platform below clapped down on the gray marble stairs. There was Chinese graffiti sprayed on the tiled walls, characters that Jinro could only guess as to their meaning. "The Lung Wang control this area," Walter said as he scrutinized the graffiti. "That's what this symbol here is." He pointed to a character that was larger than the other spray-painted tags. "What's it mean?" Jinro said and rubbed his hands together, then jammed his fists into his pockets. "Dragon-kings." "So would the Dragon-kings let a single corporate-type wander through their territory without shaking him down?" Jinro said and examined the other signs that had been covered over or defaced, a sign that those represented had been figuratively or literally erased. "We could ask them but we'd need to call in a tactical squad for it," Walter said and resumed his descent. "Every one of them thinks he's Du Yu Sheng and Nicky Louie." "Think they could take out the Rippers?" "Not after the Wolverines got done with them," Walter said. "Last thing I heard was that the Rippers were pretty shot up after the fight last night. It beats the hell out of me why anyone thinks Flushing is worth fighting for." Jinro laughed and said, "The Wolves were denying their involvement even as the tacticals were putting them in the van. I'm sorry I missed that one." "Yeah, I read the report." At the bottom of the steps was the turnstile level. The hard slap of the soles of his broken-in Kenny Brownes echoed off of the tile floor across the wide hall. It almost seemed unnatural. At this time of day the first shift rush was normally just peaking. Jinro vaulted over the turnstiles and waited for Walter to do the same. Heaven & Earth "Well, well. Two of New York's finest, I see." A sneering voice greeted them as they came off of the stairway and onto the platform. The station, with the rattle of trains and the clamor of people, was unnaturally quiet. "Oh, great, they brought Sinclair in." Jinro muttered to Walter when he realized that he knew the voice. "Yeah, I thought we were done listening to that snake-eel." Walter said under his breath. Sinclair had put in ten years with Metro before he went to AgraCon. Everyone on the force agreed that it was for the best, Sinclair was a bald, vibrator of a man who had been suspended four times for using excessive force during the apprehension of a suspect. During his last hiatus, AgraCon picked him up for at least double what the department was paying him, maybe more. "Yeah, thanks for getting here so promptly, boys. Dried blood is so much easier to clean." The mocking voice of Cook, the other AgraCon inspector, met them as they emerged from the shadows and stepped into the bright circle cast from the floodlights erected around the scene. Cook still got acne on his forehead and had gone straight from the academy to AgraCon, who had paid Metro handsomely for his contract. "Hey, sorry," Walter said. "The drive down here from first sector really twisted the crank. How was the drive over from the arco?" "They flew us in," Sinclair said. "Hey, Jinro... did you watch the game last night? The MetroStars suck this year. I'd be ashamed to wear that hat in public." "Palmer just had a bad night," Jinro said and bristled defensively. The hat was deep blue and camouflaged his head. "If he hadn't gotten that second yellow card, they would've won that game. Besides, the season just started. If any of you AgraCon freaks ever stuck your noses out of the arco, you'd know that." Sinclair sneered. "That means he's gone for the next game against Philadelphia and they're in second place in your division. They've got Agulero, who leads the league in scoring, the MetroStars are going to be in the cellar the rest of the season." Jinro bristled defensively and said, "Since when do you two know anything about it? Mister spends-all-his-time-reading-Guns-and-Ammo. Don't think we've forgotten." "We do what they pay us to do." Sinclair said and turned to lead the way to the accident scene. He jumped down from the platform to the tracks and walked towards the near tunnel entrance. Jinro planted an arm and levered himself over the edge, landing in roughly the same spot that his corporate counterpart had. The third-rail that carried the dangerous voltage was on the far side, next to the wall. "Just like the old days then, huh, Sinclair?" Jinro snidely tossed back as Walter rested against the platform and caught his breath. "A lot better than the old days," Sinclair corrected. "I'm driving an UltraLux two-thousand now... and I got MetroStar season tickets." "The Dragon Kings'd already have it up on blocks." Jinro said and fell into step behind the company man. "I'd hunt 'em down and kill 'em." Sinclair said as he stopped at the mouth of the tunnel and waved a hand at the large red stain in the center of the track-bed. "Not here you wouldn't," Jinro said and crouched to examine the spot. "This area isn't corporate zoned. That's what we have tactical-squads for." CCTV cameras were hidden within shock-proof plastic domes at various points. There were 3 camera-domes mounted within sight. Jinro made a mental note to view the log recording from them before he signed the disks into evidence. "Right here is where our guy moves into the tunnel," Sinclair said. "He gets about seven steps in and pow!" He smacked his palm with a fist. "The front of the G train gets a new hood ornament." "Tragic," Jinro said and walked past Sinclair into mouth of the tunnel. "Has his family been made aware of his demise? Or did you tell them that he finally got the big transfer?" Seven... six... five... Jinro thought and counted the steps down to Leonard Dean's last moment. "His wife's been notified." Sinclair said. His voice echoed down the tracks towards the curve further down the line. Leonard Dean would have been hit just as the subway was coming into the station. Jinro snapped on his pen-light and swept the ground at his feet, the blood-spattered tracks, and the blocks that the tunnel was constructed of. "How'd she take it?" Jinro called back. The AgraCon bucket crew had done a nice job of cleanup. Before the trains started running again, there'd be a team in the tunnel with steam-scrubbers getting the last of the stains off of the wall. "She freaked," Sinclair said flatly and lit up. "We got her to the wellness clinic and sedated before she could damage anything." "I'll bet she did." Jinro said and turned to face an imaginary subway car coming around the curve. "Goodbye corporate habitat, hello Lo-Rent sleaze-castle." "You're a real sensitive guy, Kume." Sinclair said, drawing deeply and sending a large cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "That's why they put me on homicide." "It takes a sick mind to look at shit like this all day," Sinclair observed as he produced color photos of what they'd already carted away. "They offered me homicide but I wouldn't take it." "Are you sure they stopped the trains?" He said as he heard a ghostly air-horn sound in his ears. "Yeah, yeah," Sinclair said and turned away testily, moving to climb the access stairs at the mouth of the tunnel. "We're good until oh-nine-hundred. They can single track around us if we need more time, but after that, whatever's left of Leonard Dean is gone." "Right," Jinro said and snapped off the pen-light. "That's one less company turd to clog up the sewer-pipes." "Watch it, Kume." Sinclair warned. *** "Now we're westbound on Ocean Parkway... in the cruise lane... doing about eighty-five in the rain," Walter was saying as Jinro came out of the tunnel and climbed the stairs to the platform. "Outta nowhere comes this little cardboard shanty that this woman and two kids are hiding in... so I jump on the brakes, right?" Cook sneered and said, "I'm sure the brakes were scared." "No, really," Walter insisted as he continued. "Two more seconds and the front of the cruiser would've gotten a new coat of paint. You guys are lucky you don't have to leave your building." He turned as Jinro walked up behind him and said, "How's it look down there?" "One more thing to add to the seen-it-all list," Jinro said as he drew up on the group and stepped into the circle around the evidence. "Once we have a look at the Transit tapes we'll know more." There was little to be bagged up... a thick wallet covered in dull spots of crusty redness, a twisted key-chain with four-mangled keys, paper-bags filled with bloody scraps of clothing, a shoe, an unloaded 9mm pistol. "The personal affects of one Leonard Dean, deceased," Walter said as the AgraCon techs lost interest in his story and drifted away. "Cook says they walked four kilometers of track and this is all they came up with." Jinro cupped a hand to his mouth. "Hey Sinclair! The tunnel wall still needs some work, I think your cleaners missed a few spots!" "Alright already!" Sinclair yelled back as he folded up his portable phone and stuffed it in a pocket. He jumped down from the platform and formed his techs into a line abreast. "You heard the man. It sounds like Metro doesn't think we clean our own messes." "He's right," Walter called as Sinclair led his team toward the more distant tunnel entrance, he hated not having the last word. "We do think that." Jinro pulled a pair of latex gloves from a box of same and snapped them on. He picked up the bag with the wallet in it and broke the seal. He reached in and removed the evidence, then set the bag back down and opened the wallet. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on boys, we might've missed something for the fourth time, once more down the tracks and then we can get out of the stink down here." "Let's see, there's one-hundred-fifty in AgraCon script... two receipts," Jinro said as he thumbed through the contents. "Both current. One from Royal dry cleaners at five-thirty yesterday, and... one from a shop called Ming's at nine-oh five last night. Did anyone get a toxicology sample yet?" "It's already on the way to the lab." Walter said as he clipped his PDA to his size 44 leather belt. "Ours or theirs?" Jinro said. "Both." "Our guy liked to travel light." Jinro said and flipped through the credit cards protruding from the slots in the front flap. Leonard Dean had a Swiss driver's-license and a current AgraCon identification with a picture of who the man was the night before. Pretty plain. Jinro thought as he examined the man's face; the weak chin, the narrow mouth, his lackluster blue eyes. It looks like he went out to lunch and never came back. "He looks constipated." Walter observed from over his shoulder. "Maybe he was having a bad day." Jinro said and began to feel strange for defending a dead man he didn't know. "Couldn't be as bad as today." Walter said. Jinro nodded agreement as he pulled a pile of business cards from the inner-pocket. Most of them were from other professionals and had the letters BSA, MSA, or PHD embossed beneath the names on the card. Some in business, but most from science... psychologists and para-psychologists. He noted the numbers beside the names and swore at the number of calls he was going to have to make. Like a heart in a hand of spades, a flash of color caught his eye. "What have we here?" Jinro said and pulled the pink oddball out of the pile. It was a business card for a place called the Kitten's Den. He knew where it was, a skin-club three blocks up and just off the street on the left-hand side. "Hey Walter, did we ever shut this place down?" "I don't think so. We passed it on the way down here," Walter said and pinched the card between his sausage fingers. "There's a lot of big-wigs that go there for business meetings. Huh, interesting... check out the back." Jinro retrieved the card and turned it over. There was a name on the back written elaborately in red ink above a number. All the information on the card would be recorded. He'd do it for every article he found in the wallet. Miki... 0917-1975. Jinro thought and jotted it down. He put down his pad and opened the bio folder that Sinclair delivered. wife's name is Lana. He thought. So who was Miki? "I think we're just about done. Sinclair's shit is in order," Jinro said as he closed the folder and returned the wallet to the evidence bag. He sealed the bag and removed a small ink-pad from his coat-pocket. Banded to the top of the case was a stack of barcode labels that he used to mark one side of the evidence bags. Jinro activated the barcode scanner in his PDA and scanned in each item as he said, "Do you think we got time to make a little stop before we go back? I think it would be a good idea." Walter checked his watch. From it, he could access voice-mail, e-mail, and get the times in twelve different cities. "I don't see why not." Walter said as Cook added a AgraCon sticker to each piece and repeated the process, the put the bags back in the evidence box and replaced the top. "Are you two going to take this with you or what?" Sinclair said, waving an arm at the collection. Jinro shook his head. "It's your mess, Sinclair, you clean it up." "Cook, call for pickup." Sinclair said as he gave Jinro a cold stare. Cook unfolded his PDA and punched a button. The sound of the wireless modem connecting with a carrier came through. "This is Cook, we've got things wrapped down here, we're go for extraction. Use the same site as before." *** "We're always looking for new talent, Kume, you should stop by one of our outlets sometime." Sinclair said as they watched a twin-engine Bell/Augusta 609 alight in the parking-lot they had designated as a landing zone. AGRACON was stenciled on each side just ahead of the circular corporate logo, from afar, the decal looked like an exclamation point on the side of the aircraft. "I can't hear you." Jinro said and clamped his hands over his ears as the wet aircraft settled, spraying him with droplets thrown by the wash of the huge rotors spinning ten feet over the ground. The roar of the engines cut out as the passenger door in the side of the craft dropped into a crew stairway. "You should stop by sometime, fill out an application... maybe we could find something for you," Sinclair said as he started for the VTOL. "I told my people about your work. They were very interested." "Yeah, well, the department's been good to me. I'm pretty happy where I am." Jinro said and simpered as the attendant stepped into the door. She was a radiant beauty who met Cook as he got to the top of the stairway, escorting him toward the back of the fuselage arm-in-arm. Another attendant stepped up. "Inspector, hurry... we have a timetable to keep." She called from the doorway and waved. Sinclair smiled and waved back. "Think about it, Jinro. People as talented as you and I get great benefits," Sinclair said as Jinro stopped. "Just put down that I recommended you and you'll get what I got." "I'm happy doing what I do, Sinclair," Jinro said and wondered if he meant it. "And I don't want what you got." "Your loss, Kume." Sinclair said and climbed the steps into the aircraft and raised the passenger door. Jinro puts his hands over his ears as the pilot increased power to the engines, he was knocked back by rotor-wash as the propellers began chopping air. The VTOL lifted into a hover and rotated to face the AgraCon building, then it began to climb rapidly and transitioned to forward flight once it was above the rooftops, disappearing into glare of the morning sun. *** The waitress at Rocket-Top came towards their table with a loaded platter of breakfast foods. The walk-in counter more resembled a diner of fifty years before, down to the Chrome edge on the tables and countertop, the effect was a step backward in time. She plunked the tray down on the table behind them and began setting plates before other customers. Once the tray was empty, she tucked it under her arm and removed a rag that she used to wipe down the next table. There was a red plastic rocket attached to her hat, which wobbled in Jinro's face as she leaned over to wipe down the seats. "You know, Gloria, my wife has one of those hats. It totally raises my rocket." Walter said. The waitress replied with a tired smile. "Walter, you're so original this morning, what gives? Did you get some action yesterday?" Walter nodded and said, "It's an ugly world out there, Gloria." "I know what you mean," She said and stretched across the table to start the tip-meter at the opposite end. "So what'll it be today?" "What to you have to ask for?" Walter said as he slid into the left side of the booth. Jinro took the right side. "We get the same thing every time we come in here." "They make us ask." Gloria said as she jotted down familiar orders. "Who does?" Jinro said. Gloria shot a quick, uneasy glance toward the security camera set up to watch the length of the dining saloon. Rocket-top kept a fry-cook on staff to preserve what they called "a connection with the mass experience of the past." The rest of the building was automated, dedicated to mass production. Gloria was back in ten minutes with a plate in each hand. "Sinclair sure seems like his old self," The prick, I never liked him. Too bad it wasn't him under that train." "Yeah, but if it weren't him it'd be someone else," Jinro said and smiled. "Personally, I always thought Sinclair was funny, but that's just me. Ketchup please." Walter passed the bottle with the establishment's cigar-shaped label across the table, as Gloria refilled their coffee mugs from a nozzle she pulled down from the ceiling. "Just ten minutes ago you were telling me what an asshole you thought he was. Make up your mind." "He's a funny asshole," Jinro said as he uncapped the bottle and poured. "But he's not our problem anymore." Jinro set the bottle down as the PDA clipped to his own belt began vibrating. He pulled it off and flipped up the small display, squinting to see the data-feed. "AgraCon just delivered their summary report on the Dean case. That was quick." Jinro said and clicked through the data as fast as he could read it. "Not too suprising considering how little they had to work with," Walter said as he poured syrup on his blueberry pancakes. "Nothing to autopsy, no monkey business involved and sure, it doesn't take long." Everything matched the summary that he'd sent in once they'd cleared the scene. The software in the PDA compared the two files and both matched. When he compared the evidence logs, he found a discrepancy. "Chikushoume ," Jinro said as the feed stopped and the ERROR icon came up. The logs didn't match. "Walter, did we get EVERYTHING accounted for?" "Yep," Walter said as he cut into his second breakfast. "Down to the script in his wallet. Everything." "This is bullshit," Jinro said. The mismatch was insignificant, a business card found in the wallet but not, apparently, found by AgraCon. Jinro liked to be precise. It rankled him that Sinclair and his boys were less professional but were paid better. "If I lose points on my next evaluation for this, I'm gonna be mega-pissed." "About what?" Walter said with no attempt to hide the disappointment in his tone. He ate with more concern for enjoyment than where portions of meals were sometimes found long after consumption. "Hurry up and eat," Jinro said and started shoveling eggs and hash-browns into his mouth. "We got to get over to AgraCon before the second-shift rush. There's a discrepancy in the evidence log. We counted thirty-one items and they only put in thirty." "But we can't do that," Walter said while he chewed. "We need to get authorization from AgraCon first." "We already got it," Jinro said. "They wanted us on the case... that's close enough for me. We should find out why they don't match, it's just safe practice." "No way," Walter said as he peppered his corned-beef hash. "They wanted us there because it was outside their property... nothing else. If we want to go to their arco it's gonna take a few days." "Look," Jinro said sternly. "The evidence log AgraCon submitted does not match the one we did. Next time we get an internal audit, that error is going to come up and we're going to lose IER points for it. Let's just get it taken care of today." Walter shook his head. "I don't know, Jinro," He said. "We'll catch hell for it if AgraCon decides to log a complaint. People lose their badges for that kind of thing." "Don't worry about it," Jinro said. "If it comes down to it, I'll take the heat. Besides, once they realize that they made a mistake, they'll probably thank us for bringing it to their attention. Corporate-types are like that." "Alright," Walter sighed and added sugar to his coffee. "But just so you know, I'm doing this under protest." "Thanks, Walter," Jinro said. "I knew you'd see it my way." Walter continued eating. *** They pulled into the crowded AgraCon guest lot entrance and parked at the curb in front of the visitor's gate. "Let me do the talking, ok?" Jinro said as Walter put the Crown Vic in "park" and killed the engine. "Sure," Walter said and reached for the restraint harness. "It's your show. You know I got your back. If you want to just get in and out, I'm down with that." "I appreciate it." Jinro said as he unclipped himself from the restraint system and opened the gull wing door, stepping out into the drizzle. "Ugh," Walter said and looked up as the doors to the Crown Vic closed, locking automatically. "It's even uglier up close. It looks like a hive of some kind." Heaven & Earth "This whole fucking city's turning into a ant's nest," Jinro said and eyed the northbound section of the M1 skyway, an elevated roadway that disappeared into a tunnel built through the center of the Arco . The structure loomed in the late morning overcast, a few hardy salarymen braved the storm on their sky-bikes and looked very insect-like as they brought their craft down onto the VTOL pads converted for their use. AgraCon built themselves a mountain, a monument. As the world's leader in frozen foods, they had been the first to mobilize the resources for such a structure. The Arco was already a landmark. Noone was ever going to tear it down and AgraCon knew it. Competitors could only plan greater marvels. "It's hard to believe they did all this selling microwave meat pies." Jinro said and turned up his collar as the wind blew up his back. I guess it makes a difference when everyone's buying them." The factories inside the Arco fed on raw materials, vegetable and animal products of every type brought in by rail. The massive construct was designed to accommodate and support a population equivalent to a small city, it dominated the support yard that had risen around it, an Aztec pyramid of fibrocrete and steel. A guardhouse stood next to each access ramp. "Metro inspectors?" The AgraCon security guy inside the nearest one said with an accent Jinro couldn't identify. The man stood, leaning into the open guardhouse window, displaying a large pistol hanging in an unsnapped holster. "I guess cold days in Hell do exist. What can we do for you today?" "Expecting any other kinds of inspectors here today?" Jinro said as he watched a dog-team emerge from a shelter to begin going over the car. "You might be from Interpol," He said and sneered. "Though I doubt it, I almost mistook you both for pieces of gutter trash. Badges please." "We need to speak with your Inspector Sinclair or Inspector Cook," Jinro said and handed over his badge with a question. The guard stepped back and compared the picture to his face. "You got a permit for that?" "Of course," The guard said and returned Jinro's badge. "It's company policy. Our permits are on file in the record hall. May I see your form twenty-oh-five, please." Walter's badge got the same scrutiny. "Uh, we're working jointly on a case that's still pending," Jinro said. "If you just call your Inspector Sinclair or Cook we can get that taken care of." "Hold on," The guard said and lifted a finger to his ear. "This is Gunter. We have two Metro Inspectors at the visitor's gate. Put me through to Cook or Sinclair." "Sorry to bother you, sir," Gunter said. "There's an Inspector Kume and an Inspector Jerik... Jer... Jerkowitz at F gate. No, they don't have a form twenty-oh-five... " "Cook... it's gotta be Cook, he's a rules kind of guy." Jinro said as Gunter lowered his hand to the desk-top. His finger twitched and he punched in a code, the lifted a cordless handset up to his jaw. "I need backup at F gate, please." "We're in." Jinro said, though part of him saw the bum's-rush coming. In less than twenty seconds another guard arrived to relieve him. Gunter stood and picked up his duty-cap. "It's Jerikowskowitz, by the way." Walter said as Gunter opened the door to the guardhouse. The arco was protected by wide reflecting pools and ground traffic carefully directed by thick barrier walls and L-shaped access ramps. A tank couldn't roll past a checkpoint without getting stalled. If the arco was buttoned up it was nearly impossible to get inside. "You two follow me," Gunter said as he led them down the ramp toward the bowels of the mountain. "And don't touch anything." *** "You got a serious set of brass ones coming over like this," Cook said as he fell into step with them and their burly escort fell away. As they went through the main entrance, they bee-lined for the security desk. "Article twenty-three of the Municipal code requires two-day notification before a visit by Metro or anyone else. Christ, I'll be writing contact reports until first shift comes on again." The AgraCon workers that passed them in the quiet lobby scrutinized the interlopers with looks of restrained disinterest, perhaps even disapproval. It was the dichotomy of the new have's and the old have-not's, Jinro thought. The inside was polished and the people inside were the right kind, razor-sharp and refined. The world outside the Arco was dirty, smelled bad and was filled with savages and barbarians. Despite efforts to the contrary, visitors inevitably found their way into one of the two categories. Be careful. The mongrel is wild. Jinro heard words around a buzzing in his ears as two androgynous looking men with weasel-like faces brushed past him. The fat one's never finished a crossword puzzle. "Did you hear that?" Jinro said and looked for the speakers of a public address system. The Arco still smelled new. "Hear what? It's like a library in here," Walter said and Cook frowned. "You could hear a mouse fart. Not that there are any mice around, though." Jinro was distracted by the small robotic mouse-catcher that rolled past their feet, disappearing into a forest of legs. Once caught, rotary buzz-saws built into the machine eliminated the pests. "Sorry, this didn't come up until the last minute," Jinro said and logged his thumbprint into the visitor log. Walter did the same and they were issued passes. The background on the passes was a generic white, Cook wore one in red. Most of the other ones he saw were blue, but there were a few in yellow or green. "I don't know what shit you all are trying to pull but when there're discrepancies in evidence logs it makes both of us look bad." "I don't know what you're talking about," Cook said and folded his arms. "What discrepancies?" "I'll tell you what," Jinro said. "Bring me the wallet we logged as evidence in the Leonard Dean case and I'll show you." "I can't do that," Cook said. "The personal affects of Leonard Dean have already been delivered to his widow." "Then I'd like to have a few words with Missus Leonard Dean." "Hey, don't do me any favors, Jinro," Cook said. "I can't approve that on such short notice. You're pushing your luck as it is." "I'm sorry if this means more work for you," Jinro said slowly. "But in the advisory you sent us, we were assured full cooperation." "On a case that's already been closed," Cook said and stopped Jinro with a hand to his chest as he was about to mount an escalator to the next level. "Besides, she's not been released from the wellness center, yet. I'm can't let you up there." "I'd like to be notified whenever she's well enough to see," Jinro said and scratched an action note off his list. "It's standard procedure, now do you want it done by the book or don't you?" Cook crossed his arms. Jinro could see him mentally waffling. "Wait here," He said and stepped away. He walked twenty paces, then lifted his hand to his ear-piece. "This is Cook. I've got some visitors from the Police in the lobby. They want to talk to Lana Dean." Jinro could hear Cook and an electronic buzz from the ear-piece but not words. Whoever it was gave Cook an extended earful. "Of course, sir. Right away, sir," Cook took his finger off of the "transmit" button and lowered his arm. His face was calm when he got close enough for them to see it, but it had the rigidity that told them he'd just suffered a moral loss. "I've been informed that Lana Dean has been released from the wellness center. Keep the questions brief." *** "Missus Leonard Dean?" Jinro said as the door opened a crack and a pair of sorrowful, dull eyes peered out at him. The residential levels of the AgraCon arco reminded him of the lo-rent complexes he used to patrol. The paint wasn't peeling away from the walls, and it was a uniform sunny yellow instead of a shocking hazard orange. The same cheap fixtures hung from the ceiling but they were in working order and the burned out lights were replaced. The carpeting in the halls was new and swept robotically every three hours. There were no vermin in sight. "Yes." A narrow, timid face peered through a crack in the door. "We're with the Metro Investigations department," Jinro said and flashed his badge. "Would you mind if we came in?" Mrs. Leonard Dean looked from Jinro, to Walter, to Cook. She unlatched the door when Cook nodded his approval. The inside of the apartment was nice. Modular furniture, tasteful prints hanging in expensive frames on the wall. Leonard Dean had lived comfortably. "Please sit down," She said as Walter followed Jinro in and Cook closed the door. "Would you officers like a cup of tea?" "No." Cook said, just loud enough to be heard, but already she was turning into the kitchen. "Yes," Jinro said at the same time. "Sugar and milk, please. It's pretty wet out there." "One for me, too," Walter said and shimmied past the coffee-table to the modular sofa. "Wait... it's not in violation of your protocols to accept a cup of tea is it?" "Just don't get too cozy." Cook said as he folded his arms and elected to lean against a wall. Jinro shoved his hands into his pockets and wracked his brain for wordings to questions that would have to be delicately delivered. Lana Dean came out of the auto-kitchen with three saucers supporting cups and rested them on the table-top. She sank into the cushions beside Walter. "Now, Missus Dean, I know you've just had a personal tragedy," Jinro began as he pulled up a chair and sat down across from the thin woman shivering on the modular, ergonomic room-accessory. He sipped at his cup to wet his throat. "We really do hate to bother you but I need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?" Lana Dean looked at Cook for prompting before she answered. When he gave her a nod, she relaxed slightly and inhaled. "For the record, Ma'am, I'll need you to state your full name and citizen ID number please." Jinro said. "Lana Dean... four-two-three-one-nine-nine-three-zero." "Tell me about your husband, Missus Dean," Jinro said and took out his notepad. "Do you know what he might've been doing outside the arco at those kinds of hours?" "We do lots of recruiting from that area," Lana Dean said slowly, still sounding very sedated. "He went there regularly to approve the new candidates. He had late nights." "Did you know your husband owned a gun, Missus Dean?" Jinro said. She dabbed at her nose and shook her head. "No, that was a surprise to me," She said and shot a glance towards Cook, gauging his reaction. Jinro followed her attention and said, "What about it, Cook? Are all Associate Directors issued firearms? Is his permit on file in the records hall?" Cook bristled and said, "If that was what he felt he needed to protect himself, we don't have a problem with it, especially since there were none of your people around to do the job." Jinro focused on Lana Dean, who was beginning to get wet around the eyelids, he gave her a tight smile and said, "I digress." "He was a gentle man, he knew how to turn anger into passion. I thought he was a little rough on Leo Junior at times, but it was tough love." Cook remained stoically fixed-in-place. "Has he expressed unhappiness with anything to you recently?" Jinro said and tried to get her to meet his eyes. "Getting work dumped on him, or maybe a promotion didn't go through?" "Nothing like that," Mrs. Dean said and shook her head. She sniffled back a sob. "He seemed so... happy. There were nights he got home and he couldn't wait to tell me about the prospects he'd found. He was so excited about the new talents." "Did you come here to ask the lady about her deceased husband or are you here to talk about a discrepancy that she can help you with?" Cook said and gave Jinro a hard eye. Get to the point. "I just though that before I ask her about that, I'd, maybe... ask her if she knows why her husband would go berserks after ten years of solid performance as a recruiter and a loving father?" Jinro said and sipped at his tea. "Oh, and if you don't mind, Lana. If you still have a wallet, that was included in you late husbands effects, I'll need to have a look at it, please." "Get the wallet, please." Cook said as he stepped forward. "We're interested in uncovering your little question ourselves, Kume, but your presence here isn't helping matters." "So got any bright ideas yet?" "We're examining our management screening process. Some of our training schools can be quite rigorous. Sometimes men we think are everything that AgraCon expects fail to meet plan. We try to instill our managers with what is needed to overcome such obstacles." "Well, if he was a good man, I'm sure he's got no worries, where-ever he went to," Walter chimed in. Jinro shot a warning glance his way as the eyes of Mrs. Leonard Dean welled up with tears. "Oh... right, sorry." "Real sensitive, Walter," Jinro said. Cook's hard face broke into a sneer. "What I'm trying to ask is do you have any idea why your husband felt the urge to walk into a subway-tunnel?" "No, I don't... now please leave." Lana Dean produced some tissue and rubbed at her nose and her eyes. Jinro heard a bored thought that said I'm tired of questions. "You heard the lady, interview's over," Cook said and excused Lana Dean with a look. Jinro closed his notepad and stood erect. "The wallet, if you please." Lana Dean started when she realized she'd been holding it in her hand. She offered it over. "Sorry. I just... I have a lot on my mind right now." Jinro opened the leather and fingered through the business cards stored within the inner pocket. He suppressed a sudden feeling of relief when he saw the familiar pink flash. He pulled out the card from the Kitten's Den and showed it to Cook. "This is it. It didn't show up the evidence log you sent over this morning," Jinro said. When he held it up, it became clear that the name on the back had been erased. The card he saw on the subway platform was blood-stained along the top edge, the one he held was new. "I know it sounds like a big hassle for a little thing, but we loose audit points for those little things. I hope you understand." "Yeah, I understand," Cook said. "So what do you want me to do, put my thumbprint on something saying the error was on us? Sure, whatever, but you need to be out of here before the change of shift." Jinro peeled the back off a small evidence sticker and secured the sticker to the back, covering the area where the name Miki should have been. He unclipped the PDA from his belt and used it to enter the piece into the evidence log. The keypad was tiny but he managed to put his name into the "Received by:" space and "Cook, Reynard" where the transfer form asked for it. When he entered their citizen ID numbers, a square icon came up on the touch screen. The small rectangle had a generic thumbprint pattern flashing red. Jinro pressed his thumb against it, making an impression in the liquid crystal. The PDA beeped when it scanned his thumbprint. He offered it to Cook, who took it and did the same. "There, happy now?" Cook said with increasing venom as Jinro put the computerized assistant away. "Very, it's a load off my mind, I'll tell you," Jinro said as he pulled his on Kevlar-armored jacket. "Thanks for having us in, Missus Dean. I just got one last question... do you have a friend, or is there any member of your immediate family, named Miki?" "No, there isn't," She blinked and folded her hands in her lap. "Inspector Cook, who's Miki?" "No more questions," Cook said promptly and spun Jinro to face the exit. "Lana, I don't know what he's talking about." Cook gave Jinro a firm shove that sent him forward a few steps toward the exit. Cook just about had him out the door when Jinro heard a crash, like the sound of a tea setting cracking against the floor. "Who's Miki?" She cried louder. As Cook gave him a final push, Jinro looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened at what he saw. Lana Dean had had her hair in a bun but it had come loose. Clumps of blond strands slowly rose and stood on end as if shocked by a strong static charge. Jinro could feel the room had gotten suddenly cooler. The chill running up from the base of his spine made him tingle with disbelief. To his amazement, she had objects in orbit, sloshing cups half-filled with tea and the saucers they had rested on, each one spinning separately around the room as if they were weightless. "Who's Miki?" She screamed. A cup changed course and accelerated away towards the door. It smashed into the wall and pelted Jinro with crockery fragments and drops of tea, then Cook had him out the door. It closed behind him and he sealed it by swiping his card through the lock control. "She's freakin'! Oh, real subtle, Jinro!" Cook shouted at him, then regained his composure as panted in breath. He swallowed and lifted his hand to key the 'transmit' button in his ear-piece. "This is Cook. We got a situation on residential eleven... lockdown unit twenty-one-eleven. Code blue. I need backup and medical here now." "What's going on in there?" Walter asked as he pulled Jinro to his feet. He leaned in towards the door to listen, then drew back suddenly as something else shattered against the wall. Jinro gaped dumbly at Cook until the younger man met his eyes. "Nothing," Cook said sternly as several AgraCon security officers rounded the corner at a full run. "That's exactly what's going on in there, that's exactly what you saw... nothing." "It sure didn't look like nothing." Jinro said softly. What it was he didn't know, but Lana Dean did not sound happy. "What didn't?" Walter demanded in frustration. Cook, sitting against the door, started as he heard the beeping noise of the lock keypad being tried, from the inside. The keypad signal honked forbiddingly as each sequence was tried and rejected at an increasingly rapid pace. Jinro hadn't seen a keypad on the inside, just a doorknob. Cook lifted his radio. "She's trying to get out," Cook said. "Where's that medical team, control? I need it now." "They're right behind us." One of the security troops offered as he leaned back against the wall and caught his breath. "Good," Cook said. "Tell them to bring up a canister of happy fog." He pulled out a strange instrument that looked like a Geiger counter and scrutinized the multi-function display. Sound crackled from a small speaker attached to the device that sounded like white noise static, except heavier, and it was increasing in pitch. "Nuts," Cook said and killed the power to the device. "She's past beta-level already. Better tell them to bring two." He folded the small device and dropped into a pocket. "I think you've done enough damage for one day, Kume." He waved a guard forward. "Get these two out of here." Walter managed to keep his mouth shut until they were inside the cruiser and pulling away from the AgraCon arco. "So what'd I miss?" Walter said quietly. Jinro's mind was still trying to convince his eyes that what he'd seen was real. He had heard the cup shatter and felt the tea hitting his exposed skin. It had to be real. Could he tell Walter? What if he didn't believe him? He had too much time invested in a police pension to get himself dropped on a psych-out. "Nothing, Walter," Jinro said slowly and watched the traffic flash past. "You didn't miss a thing. The Dean lady just needed a little rest." "If you say so, buddy-boy," Walter said, clearly disgruntled with the answer he was given. "She sounded rested to me." "Oh yeah?" Jinro said. "Do I sound rested? You promised I'd be home by noon. It's a little past noon, granted that was mostly because of my little detour." "Yeah, yeah, yeah." Walter grumped and floored the accelerator. Traffic northbound was only moderate. Heaven & Earth "This is what I get for following up," Jinro said and blew a warm breath into his hands as the heater slowly produced heat. "When's the last time you finished a crossword, Walter? "Nope. You?" *** Chapter Two Jinro stared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, a thousand divergent thoughts in his head. Twelve years on the force and he'd never seen anything like he did yesterday. He hated lying to Walter but the truth was impossible. What would he say? How could he explain it? Walter would sooner believe that it was the Loch Ness Monster behind that door, making all that ungodly noise. Jinro knew what he saw but part of him still didn't want to believe it. "So I tell him the truth," Jinro said to himself. "Then he tells someone else and word gets around... Detective Kume is seeing and hearing things. Then they call in the head-shrinks to lay me down on a couch and ask me about my mother. They interpret something I say in a certain way and suddenly I'm no longer reliable... I'm an on-hacker, or a mad-dog psycho cop and it's adios to the only life I know." And I still have eight years left on the mortgage, he thought as the door buzzer sounded. He set his shaving kit aside and moved to answer the summons from the ground floor below. "Who is it?" Jinro said. He already knew it was but he always checked. The one time he didn't check might be the time that would cost him. "Your car, sir." Walter said in a poorly done English accent. "I'll be right down." Jinro said and hung-up the line. Walter was waiting calmly on the step when Jinro came out the door, still knotting his tie. "It's about time," Walter said. Jinro could tell he was still sore about the day before. "Dravenheath'll take it out of our backsides if we're late. That's twice this week." "I'm not worried," Jinro said. He felt like he could take on the whole city. "The way you drive, Dravenheath is the least of my problems." Walter chuckled and lifted himself from the step he sat on. He shook his head as he plodded down the stairs. "Fuckin' Jinro. You drive then." Jinro poured a cup of coffee from his Thermos, them filled Walter's travel mug. He set the cup on the dash, tipped against the windshield, freeing both hands to cap the jug and store it. "So what do I tell Mitsamura when asks about what happened yesterday?" "Don't worry about it... just tell him what you told me," Walter said and focused on the roadway. "I wouldn't have gone along if I weren't convinced." "You're right," Jinro said and tried to think positively about the matter. "I'm sure he'll understand. It seemed like the sun had put everyone at the Metro Headquarters in a better mood. The drab windows allowed a natural wind to blow through, for those areas with broken thermostats. The noise inside the old building was muffled, trapped by a coating of new snow. "It looks like we got lucky today." Walter said as he flipped through the case-folders he carried in his arms. They'd only been given a small stack to pile on top of the cases still pending. The last time Jinro had counted there'd been over twenty. "How many'd we get?" Jinro said and took a look out of the panoramic window across from the briefing room as he walked by it. "Just two, officially pending," Walter said and dropped the hand that held the case-folders to his side. Jinro carried the take-out from Rocket-Top that they'd picked up on the way in. "We got lucky last night. The storm must've kept all the wackos in." "Great," Jinro said as he examined his reflection. "I got five in Municipal script that says we're clocked out by four-thirty." "No way," Walter said. He didn't mind working long hours and certainly not with four new cases to wrap his brain around. "Seven, if we're lucky." "We can't solve all of them, Walter." Jinro said as he came to the door to the common area and punched his access code into the pad above the lock. When it beeped he twisted the handle. Every desk in the large room was active with someone doing something; slamming drawers, fingers tapping on keyboards, printers screeching, hardcopy ripping as it was torn away. Voices in a dozen languages spoke simultaneously into tele-com handsets to people he could neither hear nor see. Jinro snaked his way around clusters of fellow inspectors to his desk. He collapsed into his chair and sipped at his coffee. A widely-doodled and coffee-stained planning calendar covered the desktop. "Hey Jinro!" A voice broke the hum. Lieutenant Simmons, shouting at him from across the room. Instead of quieting, the babble in the room just got louder to compensate. "Mitsamura wants to see you... you AND Walter... in his office, ASAP." Deputy Chief Mitsamura, for the duration of Dravenheath's vacation, was the man in-charge. Jinro acknowledged the message with a wave and took a sip from his cup. "I wonder what he wants?" Walter said as he sighed at the muffin he'd only just taken a bite from and put it aside. He wiped his mouth daintily on a paper napkin, then crumpled it up and pitched it into the overflowing wastebasket. "It probably has something to do with yesterday," Jinro said as he lifted himself to his feet. "Shit, what am I going to tell Mitsamura?" "Tell him what you told me. He'll understand." Walter said and brushed the crumbs off his jacket. He straightened his tie as he got to his feet. "Understand me with an ass chewing," Jinro said. "I didn't think they'd say anything." "Probably, I told you we should've got a form twenty-oh-five first," Walter said. "That way everything would've been nice and legal and they couldn't say a thing about." "The trail would've been stone cold before that ever happened. You have to utilize opportunities." *** There was a knock on the door. Mitsamura took a leveling breath and interlaced his fingers. "Come in." Jinro entered first, Walter followed and closed the door. "Be so kind as to close the blinds, if you please, Inspector Jerikowskowitz." Mitsamura said and scrutinized his watch. The pair had taken seven minutes longer than he'd expected them to. Jinro crossed the expansive office until he stood in front of the desk. He worried a bit and stiffened his posture an extra measure. Mitsamura wasn't usually much for words. "You wanted to see us, sir?" Jinro said as the light filtering in from the common area faded and the room dimmed to the ambient level. If he had to see Mitsamura, whatever it could be was going on his record. "Ah, yes. Inspector Kume," His English was severe, perfect. It dropped in pitch as it slid down Jinro's name, as if he had only just remembered that he had indeed, and for a difficult reason. "Please sit. There has been an occurrence I must take up with you." Jinro knew the Department commander as a man of contrasts, if he wasn't himself there was a reason. Walter eased into the chair next to him, dabbing, at his brow with a soft cloth. The Con-Ed Fusion Systems embargo of the power generated by their patented reactors continued, affecting the mid-Atlantic coast from Boston to DC. A gas furnace powered the steam generation plant in the basement. Unlike many other heaps in the ant-pile, Metro HQ always had water, some power, and heat. "Kindly explain to me why you saw fit to disobey standing regulations in your visit to AgraCon yesterday?" Mitsamura said. You couldn't think of what you'd tell him, could you? Stupid! Stupid! Jinro thought, and took a deep breath as he tried to think of something to say. Walter had protested the whole trip. He should have listened to his partner. "We were just following up, sir," Walter said as he realized that Jinro was at a loss. "We had reason to believe that the evidence log submitted for the Leonard Dean case may have been inaccurate." "The question was for Inspector Kume." Mitsamura said. His tone rose with intensity but his demeanor remained placid. Walter should have let Jinro answer but Metro officers were encouraged to stand with their partners. "I noticed a discrepancy when we received the summary report from AgraCon Security," Jinro said. "I convinced Inspector Jerikowskowitz that we needed to act quickly to coordinate our log reports." "And what has this to do with questioning a AgraCon worker to utter hysteria?" Mitsamura said. "The company liaison conveyed to the mayor that they were very insulted by your behavior." "It was just a hunch. I needed to see if she could locate the missing item," Jinro said. "I didn't think she was gonna react like that." Mitsamura nodded his understanding and said, "Indeed, Inspector Kume. You were not thinking." "Look, we found a card... from a club over in Little Beijing... with a name and a number on the back," Jinro continued. "We logged it as part of the contents of his wallet but when we got the summary report it wasn't on there." Mitsamura sighed and rubbed his temples. "And for this trifle you disobeyed protocol? The mayor was most unhappy to receive a harassment complaint levied against us," He said. "You should have used proper channels." "Yes, sir," Jinro said carefully. He could feel the weight coming down on him. "I must point out that when evidence logs don't match it makes all parties involved look bad, sir." Mitsamura leaned forward. "Yes, but as our continuing energy troubles demonstrate, corporate entities require handling of exceptional delicacy," Mitsamura said slowly. "This is why there are protocols in place to ensure mutual trust. Such a blatant violation of them is inexcusable." "Yes, sir." Jinro parroted meekly when Mitsamura paused. "I have apologized to AgraCon and they have agreed to overlook this incident," Mitsamura said and gave a deep sigh of disappointment. "I do not expect another to occur." "Yes, sir," Jinro said, wishing he were elsewhere. "I mean, no sir... won't happen again, sir." "I will hold you to that, Inspector," Mitsamura said and tapped his pen against his fingers. "Inspector Jerikowskowitz, in the future I encourage you to exercise better judgement." "I understand, sir." "I hope you do," Mitsamura said. "You are both dismissed." *** "We got off lucky," Walter said as he followed Jinro back to their desks. "I thought Mitsamura was gonna start hollering." Jinro nodded agreement. His heart was still pounding. "He's not like that," Jinro said. "But Dravenheath, she'd still be going strong. Sometimes my hunches are wrong, sorry." "Thank God for small favors," Walter said. "If that's the last we hear of it, I'll be happy. I'm just going to forget this ever happened." "That's got nothing to do with it," Jinro said. "This whole mess just stinks. I don't like it." "So what are you saying?" Walter said. "You gonna kiss off Mitsamura and go back over to AgraCon?" Jinro shook his head and pulled his ergonomic swivel-chair out from beneath his desk. He had found it in the basement when he had been transferred up from Mobile Patrol. It was comfortable, and broken in, it was older than he was but through it he felt a connection to the NYPD of old. The police department had been renamed in 2008 to reflect the expansion of the city's area of enforcement when more land had been absorbed; now it was the Metro Police Force. "Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice," Jinro said and shrugged as he let the thought trail off. "I'm just surprised that Cook screwed up with the evidence log like that. I thought you were watching him?" "Hey, people make mistakes," Walter said. "Even guys like him. Besides, now we got real police work to worry about." "You're right, you're absolutely right," Jinro said and pulled a folder off the top of the short stack collected during the morning brief. "Remind me to listen to you more often." "It wouldn't do any good," Walter said and grunted resignedly. He picked up the first folder and spread the contents of it across his desk. The summary report sheet was logged as a level-one assault. The victim was a 48- year old housewife. "Don't we know this guy?" Walter handed a CCTV print across the desk. Jinro scrutinized the face in the glossy capture. "Well, well, if it isn't Richie the rodent," Jinro said. The mousy face he recognized. "He was supposed to be doing six months up in Attica. He got hooked by the State Patrol driving without a license." "Parole violation?" "Yep, and he already had two strikes." Jinro laughed in amazement at how people never seemed to learn from mistakes and said, "Stupid bastard." "This was taken three minutes after the incident from a corner a half-block from the scene," Walter said. "The computer compared the faces in the frames to everyone we have on file, this was the only match. Do you think, maybe, this guy had something to do with it?" "Only if someone put him up to it," Jinro said. In the streets outside the enclaves and business towers, common man had been reverting to tribalism. Tacticals were frequently called out to quell tribal warfare. "Richie isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the socket. He used to be in tight with the Two-thirty-first street faction of the Wolverines. Independent thought isn't his strongest suit." "What if he saw who did?" Walter said and shrugged. "It might be worth tracking him down if he could give us a description." "True," Jinro said as he stood and lifted his logo-jacket off of the back of the chair. "He's got a tracking chip implanted in his frontal lobe. It shouldn't be too hard to find him." Walter leaned back in his seat and stretched. He yawned and said, "It can wait. Transit sent over a data log made of the surveillance tapes from the other night." He slid a memory cartridge into his desk-top console and activated the audio/visual player, then slid into his seat and said, "Transit already had the clip ready when I called them." "This ought to be good." The cameras that TRANSIT used to monitor the subway systems were old, purchased sometime in the early 1990's, Jinro judged by the poor quality of the pixelized images they could transmit. The images were in grayscale but reasonably sharp, he decided. A man staggered into the previously empty view of the station, arms raised, holding his head in his hands. The dark outline of a pistol tucked into his belt stood out in start contrast to his white shirt. Jinro took a quick glance at the time/date stamp in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 0245/Feb 4 2012. Jinro wiped the snot running from his nose with a damp tissue. A front from Canada had banished the warm spell with a cold snap that brought with it two inches of ice and freezing rain. While purchasing a hot beverage for the morning, he'd overheard two old men talking, one offered that perhaps the sudden change was a harbinger of ill times. City officials were debating a cancellation of the rest of the celebration. Most people stored their festival clothes and went back to work. The op-ed piece on the "Times" website said it was the Dragon's way... no nonsense. The man they watched, Leonard Dean, wore a look, apparently one of shock, crying quietly as if in pain. He froze, then wiped his eyes as he faced toward the camera, attention focused on something unseen behind him. He recoiled as a spark skipped off the concrete pillar to his left, then turned loped into the terminal, head scanning both sides. Jinro sat forward and put his finger on the spot where he'd seen the flash. The view flipped to a different camera as he said, "Hold it. Rewind that... didn't that flash look like a bullet ricocheting to you?" Walter backed up sequence several more times before his nodded his head and said, "It looks like it to me. So who's shooting at him? The Dragon-Kings?" "Who else would it be? He must've done something to piss them off," Jinro said as the log rolled forward. The new camera view was from above and to the left, looking down the length of the train platform. "Noone else I know in Little Beijing has guns." Leonard Dean ducked again as he searched desperately for cover. He pulled the pistol from the small of his back and jumped down onto the tracks. He fired several shots toward the station entrance and ran toward the tunnel entrance at the bottom of the frame. The TRANSIT message board flashed an announcement "Train Arriving" as Leonard Dean disappeared into the tunnel. He reappeared moments later, knocked backwards, bouncing on the track before rolling to a stop. The train was over him in an instant and Leonard Dean disappeared. Jinro winced as he watched an arm being dragged beneath the undercarriage of the lead car. He gave Walter a queasy look and said, "At least he went down swinging." Walter reset the feed as the screen went blank. He watched the run twice more before he said, "I'm starting to wonder how much AgraCon really had to clean up." Jinro cleared his throat and said, "Mitsamura told us to forget about AgraCon. He was most displeased to have a... " "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Walter said, waving a hand to cut Jinro off. "I still think we should go see Richie." After four hours of fruitless searching, Jinro and Walter returned. Richie was proving to be suprisingly elusive. Jinro reasoned that, like any rodent, during the day he had retreated underground. The "message" icon on his tele-com was blinking. He had a message, two messages. He picked up the tele-com handset and put it to his ear, then pushed "Play." The first was from the district attorney; a thin, balding man with glasses mounted atop a pinched face, notifying him that he might be required to testify on the state's behalf on the last case that he'd broken. Deleted. The second was from a girl that he didn't recognize. She called from a pay-booth and looked nervous as she peered out at him from the tele-com screen. "Leonard Dean wasn't crazy," She said and he watched her scan the space around the booth for something or someone he couldn't see. There was someone on a bullet-bike beside her, revving the engine while she tried to talk. "It wasn't an accident or suicide or whatever AgraCon told you." The line went dead. "Walter... look at this," Jinro said as he offered the handset up and leaned back to allow his partner to view the message. "What the fuck does this girl know about Leonard Dean?" "That's not our problem anymore, Jinro." Jinro replayed the message and scrutinized the girl. She had blond-hair dyed purple tied up in two large clumps that stuck out of her head like handlebars. She had dark eyes and clan symbols painted up and down each bare arm. Her clothing was tight, but not in the best condition, the parts he could see looked faded. In better light she might have been striking. "She doesn't look like the corporate type." Jinro said slowly and sifted his memory for details that his eyes absorbed but his brain had missed. "Looks more like a tribal to me," Walter said and gave the handset back. "Probably just trying to have a little fun at our expense. Forget about it." Jinro tapped commands into his keyboard and the source of the call came up on his monitor. "Well, whoever it was, she called from Little Beijing," Jinro said and the tingle he'd felt at Lana Dean's came back. "Dammit! I hate loose ends, especially when they're hanging around my neighborhood." Jinro reached forward to delete the message but hesitated as his finger was coming down on the "erase" button. Instead he saved it. The door to the common area slammed, interrupting Jinro's thoughts. "Kume... Jerikowskowitz... " Simmons radioed back from the operations desk. Jinro put the video feed through and the man's face appeared on the vid-phone. "What's up Todd?" "We just got a call down from dispatch, you're up. There's been an incident over on Twenty-ninth Avenue, get over there and see what you can do." "But what about... " Walter started and waved at the case folders still spread across his desk. Simmons cut him off short. Heaven & Earth "I said now, Jerikowskowitz." Walter held up his hands and said, "Todd, relax, we're going." *** "Aww... man." Jinro said and turned away with a hand over his mouth, not in time to suppress the vomitus threatening to erupt, streams of partially digested breakfast squirted past his fingers. He read the incident report during the trip, and it was bloody, but he hadn't expected what they'd found. Walter let out a slow whistle when he laid his eyes on the scene. The area was zoned for light industry and lined with warehouses. One in particular had a crowd gathering behind barricades and the tactical vehicles parked in front. It wasn't a vat-bin, but inside it there was blood on the floor beside crumpled bodies. Med-techs stabilized the victims that could be and wheeled them to waiting air-ambulances. "What's going on here?" Jinro said as he wiped his mouth and flashed his badge at the mobile patrol sergeant, a woman, who approached to eject them from the warehouse. She relaxed as she scanned his ID, logging him into the crime scene. "We got a call about gang-activity at this location. Once we got here it was already over. I've never seen anything like it, sir." "Has anyone been identified as a witness?" Walter said and scanned the crowd gathering behind the tactical barricades blocking off the scene. "No, sir." The sergeant said. "Noone has come forward." "Can you find out who owns this warehouse for me?" Jinro said. "I'll need their name, address, and VP tag." "Yes, sir, at once." The sergeant said and moved off to fulfill her instructions. The city's Tactical's were trained by the Marines. It showed in their discipline. "Jeez, this reminds me of the bad old days," Walter said. "You're probably too young to remember the problems we had with Crack." "That was before my time, old man." Jinro said as he surveyed the scene, stepping around motionless forms, tossed around the warehouse interior, outlined in white chalk. There were over thirty... male and female... some on the floor, some, drooped over the tops of high-stacks of boxes. There was a Chinese symbol painted on each wall. "I don't miss it." "Hey Walter," Jinro called and pointed out the symbol. "Isn't that the same symbol we saw in the Bayard Street station yesterday?" Walter stepped up next to him and squinted at it. "Yep," He said. "The Dragon-Kings. You think maybe this was their hangout or something like that?" "If it's not, someone sure wants us to think it is," Jinro said. It looked like the Dragon-Kings had been the target of a rival Tong . Shell casings were scattered across the floor, being collected by a pair of mobile patrol officers, and there were guns already tagged as evidence where they had fallen beside bodies. "Everybody I see here is wearing the same symbol. I guess we're looking at what's left of the Dragon-Kings." "Fine, we know who the victims are," Jinro said "I guess we'll never be able to ask them what they knew about Leonard Dean." "We don't have CCTV coverage in this area," Walter said. "If we want to find out, we might have to wait and talk to the survivors, if they make it." Jinro nodded and crouched to examine a weapon, it was a submachine gun and the 9mm rounds it fired wouldn't have penetrated the ballistic armor the tacticals wore, though the ex-ganger it belonged to had been torn up by rounds fired by a similar weapon. They sure can do a number on unprotected flesh. Jinro thought and pressed the back of his hand to the young man's face. It was cool to the touch and Rigor Mortis had set into the muscles of face and neck. His head had fallen to the side and he had died looking at the door, but his eyes were cloudy now, if the corpse were a fish on ice in some supermarket meat counter, Jinro would've passed on it for something fresher. There were purple splotches forming on the back of his neck and Jinro was sure that he would find larger ones on the man's back as blood obeyed gravity and settled into the underside of the body. "What do you think, maybe the time of death was about four-to-eight hours ago?" Walter said and opened his PDA, waving it at the dead surrounding them. "Probably less than eight hours, lividity isn't that far progressed, but that sounds like it's in the right ball-park," Jinro said and pointed at the weapons scattered around. "I'm seeing a lot of weapons here that are the same make." Walter took a visual accounting of the weapons in view and said, "I didn't notice. What make are they?" Jinro picked up the nearest gun and gave it a brief examination. Once he finished, he returned the evidence to its original resting place and said. "ChiCom copies of the MP-five. Customs really dropped the ball on letting these babies through." "It looks like they wasted each other." Walter said as he stooped to search the pockets of a kid who had gone out holding a digital camera. The memory card supposed to be snuggly embedded into the bottom was gone, defacing the camera body with an empty socket. "It looks like someone lived long enough to remove evidence from the scene," Jinro said and pointed out the camera. "Our gang problem just took a turn for the better. At least in Little Beijing, I'm sorry it had to be this way though." He climbed onto a crate and took in the big scene. The way the bodies were laying, it did look like the Dragon-Kings had squared off at opposite ends of the warehouse and blasted away at each other. "I didn't hear of any other tribals moving into the area," Walter said and donned latex gloves. He preferred the powdered kind, which made Jinro's hands itch. "But maybe this is where they had their showdown." "Could be," Jinro said as he scanned the walls for bullet holes. They were made of thin, Aluminum sheeting and were riddled with punctures. "I gotta get outta the city. All of this shit looks the same, I'm starting to dream about bodies." "I know what you mean, buddy," Walter said. "Here's a question... what's the most popular animal in the prison zoo?" Jinro suddenly wanted away from the stench of blood and spent gunpowder and jumped off the crate to the ground and said, "Pumpalottohass." Walter laughed. *** He dreamed. Snow still covered the ground in slowly melting patches but the warehouse was becoming an oven beneath the late afternoon sun. Jinro made for the door. Once outside, he inhaled deeply to clear his lungs. "So what's the count?" Jinro said and scanned the crowd penned behind the tactical barricades as Walter came up next to him. "We got eight on the way to Bayside General," Walter said and shoved his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "Thirty on the way to the morgue. No identification of any of the victims yet." "Get a guard on them, and tell him to bring a PDA," Jinro said and watched for faces he recognized. She wasn't one of them. One of the clan symbols on her arms might've been the Dragon-Kings. He made a mental note to check when he got back to HQ. "Anybody says anything, I wanna know about it, and get someone from crime scene down here to get some photographs." "You got it," Walter said and turned to look for the mobile patrol Sergeant. "Throwing back a cold one by four-thirty, huh? I should've taken that bet." "You should've." Jinro said and shook a cigarette out of a fresh pack, lit it, and took a drag. "Tactical has got things under control. They're gonna send over the case report as soon as the clean-up crew is finished." Jinro released a cloud of smoke and took a deep breath of the air. "One more to put on the pile." "I'll be inside." Walter said and turned. Jinro let him go. He had almost completed his visual sweep of the crowd when he saw a shock of purple/blond hair and familiar eyes. They widened in surprise when the girl realized that he recognized her. She turned and started pushing through the crowd toward the back. "You! Don't move!" Jinro said and pitched the cigarette away, breaking into a slow trot towards her. The look of surprise on her face became worried as she watched him get closer. "Where you going?" Walter called from behind him but his voice only barely registered in Jinro's ears. She moved quicker when she burst from the mob. Jinro waved a path through the same crowd and stopped as he got to the back. His head swiveled from side-to-side as he scanned for her. There she is. He thought as he spotted her form just around the corner of another warehouse, the waning sunlight threw her receding shadow onto the street. He sprinted for the corner and saw her running- already a half-block away. "Stop!" He shouted and started after her. She turned her head back when she heard him shout, then turned right and disappeared into an alley. He hit the wall of the warehouse on the far-side hard, The alley was blocked off by a tall, chain-link fence. The sound of feet slapping down on metal steps drew his attention upward. She was on the fire-escape of the old building beside him, three flights up and still climbing. He found the access ladder and did the same. He'd gained on her by the time she reached the top. When he got there, she was on the other side of the flat roof, peering over the edge, gauging the distance to the next rooftop. "Don't move!" Jinro shouted and she cringed. "There's no place else to for you to go! Now put your hands up!" She faced him and slowly stepped back. Jinro pulled himself to the top and bent over, gasping as he caught his breath. She took several steps toward him, then stopped. He drew himself erect and put a hand up. "You're the one that posted a message on my machine... why?" Jinro said between huffs. "What do you know about Leonard Dean?" She flashed a smile, then turned and ran for the edge of the rooftop. Grunting as she planted a foot and leapt, her momentum carried her smoothly over the narrow span to the next rooftop. Why do they always have to do it the hard way? Jinro thought to himself and took several rapid, reinforcing breaths. He growled as he raced for the edge. He was letting her get away. He pushed off hard when his foot came down on the lip of the roof. If she could do it then he could do it. Oh shit, I'm not gonna make it. He thought. In an instant, two realities entered his awareness. One was that he had misgauged the distance between the rooftops and would not land squarely on the opposite side, the other that the term "oh shit" contained two of the more frequently used last words. The edge of the rooftop his was aiming for blasted the air from his lungs as it folded him at the waist. As Jinro struggled to breathe and to keep himself from falling, he saw her look back for him. She stopped when she saw his predicament. His chest burned and his arms wobbled as he tried to hoist himself up. She wasn't helping, only watching. I can't breathe. He thought and suppressed rising panic. Shit, I can't breathe. Somebody help me. With no oxygen, his muscles refused to support his weight. She started towards him as he struggled futilely, growing weaker each time he tried to pull himself up but failed to. One arm was growing numb, he hung by the fingers of his one good hand, but his grip wouldn't hold. Her face appeared over the lip of the rooftop, looking down at him. "Give me your hand," He croaked out and struggled to lift his numbed arm. She didn't move, just stood there and appraised him curiously. "I can't hold on!" "No!" Jinro roared as he lost his grip. For an instant he felt like he was floating, then gravity pulled at him and he started falling. Jinro jerked upright, sending covers and pillows flying. The alarm-clock was chirping and if the time was correct, it had been on for the last ten minutes. He slapped it off and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He dropped his legs over the side of the mattress and tried to slow his pounding heart. He was just coming out of the shower when Walter buzzed at the door. "You don't look so good." Walter observed when Jinro came down the stairs rubbing the stubble clinging to his chin. "Thanks for the clue, Inspector," Jinro snapped, then he softened. Walter was his partner and would cover him regardless of what he looked like. "Sorry, I just didn't sleep to well last night." "It's okay," Walter said and fumbled in his pockets for the car-keys. "By the way, gong xi fa cai." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jinro said and combed his still-wet hair back with his fingers. "May you have good fortune," Walter said. "The lunar new year starts today." "What time's the parade start?" Jinro said as he opened the passenger door of the Crown Vic and dropped into the seat. "Noon traditionally. This year I don't know," Walter said as he settled in behind the wheel. "Why?" *** Chapter Three The core of Little Beijing was crowded when the Year of the Dragon came. The streets were jammed with people doing loud things despite temperatures in the low 'teens. Hanging bundles of noisemakers unzippered to frighten off demons and other evil spirits that might bring bad luck, as a gaudy, ornamental dragon led a parade meant the start of a year filled with change. Dancers supporting the long costume picked a serpentine path down New Utrecht Avenue, following a man carrying a glowing white ball fixed to the top of a staff; the symbolic pearl of wisdom. Chinese lanterns hung on cords strung from rooftop to rooftop, next to icicles. The lights would add to the glow of the neon signage when darkness finally came, the celebrations would go on for three days and nights. "We're never going to find anyone in this crowd." Walter lamented to himself and to Jinro if he was listening. "Maybe not." Jinro muttered and resumed his scanning of the crowd. They were parked on the corner of 42nd Street trying to watch the Kitten's-Den through the windshield. Walter had the cruiser parked across from the entrance of the place. Jinro had seen more faces than he could count go in and out. None of them he recognized. "But someone didn't want any connections to this place and tampered with evidence to make sure noone did. That's a crime." "Come on, Jinro," Walter said and scratched himself. "We don't even know what to look for." "That would be true," Jinro said and lifted his compact binoculars. "Except look around you. How many AgraCon faces do you see in this crowd." "Not many," Walter said and shrugged. "I'm surprised they even let them out of the arco." "I got a feeling about this place. They wouldn't have gone through the trouble of putting a replacement in Dean's wallet unless they felt it was significant." "Jinro, I thought we had a talk about those," Walter sniffed and said. "We don't have time for this. Our case-log is already backed up and Dravenheath isn't happy about it." Jinro lowered his specs and nodded. The crowd had progressively thickened and all he could see were asses and elbows. He put the binoculars away and checked to see that his .41 automatic was secure in the shoulder harness under his jacket. Then he opened the door and swung his legs out. "What? Where you going?" Walter said as Jinro pulled himself out of the car and stretched the soreness out. "I'm gonna get some air," Jinro said as he leaned back. "Come on, it would be a shame to miss the parade." "Yeah," Walter sighed resignedly and unclipped his restraint harness. "Sure, why not?" The suspension shifted as the driver's side door opened and Walter climbed out. The magnetic locks in the doors activated as Walter pressed the "Lock" button on the remote dangling from the key-chain. "There's one thing I just don't get." Jinro said as he elbowed his way through the throng. That he stood a full head taller than most of the people around him helped. Walter stepped on as many toes as was necessary for the people around him to understand that he wanted them to move. He spoke good Chinese and used it repeatedly to apologize for the space his size required. "Sorry... ah, dui bu qui ," Walter said as he drew up. "What's that?" "Why would AgraCon want to keep us away from this place?" Jinro said, loudly to be heard over the din. The air was thick with black-powder smoke from firecrackers and the pungent smell of sweating flesh. "So one of their bigwigs drops by every now and again to get his jollies. What's the big deal about that? I mean, a man's only human." "Maybe it's against company policy," Walter said. "He had a wife and kids, plus a pretty good standing in the AgraCon community." "Yeah, but he can't be the only one." Jinro said as he waited for a break in the flow of revelers to cross the street. There'd be parades for the next four days. He lifted his head to examine the source of a droning he heard. "That's true." Walter said sheepishly. He wasn't a stranger to such places but his wife went along when he did. He insisted it was because she enjoyed the female form, but Jinro suspected it was more to keep him in line. It was curious either way but Walter didn't seem to mind. The spluttering sounds of many small, gasoline engines drew his attention upward. Businessmen, with ties fluttering, rode sky-bikes like metal horses through the chilly February air. The gasoline powered, Aluminum-framed craft mounted twin-ducted fans to provided lift and steering. They were quiet, could carry the weight of a man, and were sold in kit form for several thousand in Municipal script. With a top speed of 200 miles per hour, each full tank was good for an hour of flight. It was a perfect way for them to bypass crowded streets and could get them from housing enclave to office with a minimum of disturbance from the masses. Roofs made impromptu landing pads for dozens of vehicles and so far there had been one collapse. Walter looked up and smiled as a businesswoman flew past, wearing a leather pilot's helmet and goggles and a skirt that billowed out. "I gotta get me a sky-bike." "Me, too," Walter said. "But I don't think they make them in my size, those fans would probably come apart trying to pick me up." "I'm surprised none of those rooftops they use for landing pads haven't collapsed yet," Jinro said raised himself up on his toes. "Here we go, we got a break." He dashed between a pagoda float and the battalion of lantern-girls that trailed behind it. He could hear Walter groan and start after him, he was huffing and puffing when he got across and drew alongside. Jinro waited patiently for the doorman to acknowledge him. The doorman was bald, wore a red silk robe embroidered with golden cranes and a long Fu-Manchu moustache. "Good day, gentlemen," Bald Fu said. "How may this temple of delights serve you during this celebration?" Jinro nodded and said, "We're looking for one of your employees." "Of course you are." Bald Fu smiled and chuckled inside himself. "Is there a lady named Miki employed by this establishment?" Jinro said. "If there is we'd like to see her." "Perhaps," Bald Fu said and crossed his arms. "Do you have a reservation, sir?" "Yeah," Jinro said as he pulled out his badge. "I'm listed under John Q. Law. I think we might have reservations. Why don't you check again?" Bald Fu scrutinized the ID card beside the badge until he was sure it was authentic. He handed it back with a polite smile. "Of course, gentlemen," He said and unhooked the velvet rope impeding their progress. "Table for two?" *** The Den was everything that Walter had told him it was and wasn't. It was dark, and very warm. The jacket he wore to conceal his shoulder rig was too heavy. Once through the doors, Bald Fu led them into a long hallway that gently sloped down and opened into a larger room. The place wasn't as seedy as Jinro had presumed. Hanging along each wall were marquee posters showing various semi-clothed women in cheesecake pose. There was a name at the bottom of each one. Heaven and Hell Let me tell you something. If there's one thing that I've learned in my 30 years of living, it's never underestimate what a woman would do to get what she wanted. A few years ago, I had still been single, and unsexed for months. Many months. I was desperate at that point, of course. So I went to a bar, at the suggestion of my buddy, Nick.

 I entered the bar, and the first person I saw was a lady who was dressed in a sky blue dress, which accentuated her body curves. For some reason, she turned to look at me, and at that moment, I really felt what people called 'love at first sight'. I approached her, and started to flirt. Or tried to, anyway.

 'Hi. My name's Mick.'

 'Jagger?'

 'H-huh? Sorry?'

 'You know,' she sighed, 'THE Mick Jagger? Lead singer of The Rolling Stones?' 'Oh right, of course. I knew that,' I lied. We proceeded to talk about many things, and I realized we shared many interests. We both liked to play video games, and we once lived in the same town. 'Hey, you know what? I'd really like to talk more, but I really need the washroom,' I said.

 'Oh, is that why you have an erection? I thought you were just happy to see me,' she said nonchalantly. 'U-uh..Yeah...Sorry about that,' I replied, face crimson, and ears burning. I just realized I had a huge erection, and my soft pants did nothing to hide it. I walked gingerly to the toilet, trying to hide my erection. As I relieved myself, I continued to berate myself for the embarrassing scene out there. Damn dick, I thought, flicking the top of my still-hard penis. I jumped, the sensation new to me. I was surprised. I'd never been an experimental sort of person, so most of the time the kinkiest thing I did to myself was just to masturbate.

 I exit the toilet, erection still apparent, and sat down, leaning onto the table to hide it with my upper body. 'You know what?' she asked. 'Let's do something about your erection,' she said, touching my genitals over the pants. I was surprised. She's doing that in public?

 'Quick, finish your drink, and we'll go back to my place. It's just across the street.' I gulped down my drink, and in my concentration, fortunately lost my erection. 'I-it's just ahead?' I asked, as I felt kind of light-headed.

 She nodded.

 As we entered the building, my vision started to become blur, and my legs started to collapse as I felt my body impact the floor. A gray tunnel enveloped my vision and slowly blocked out more of my sight as the seconds went by. I blacked out.

 I woke up in a more or less empty room. I noticed I was naked, to my horror. I tried to cover myself up, but I realised my limbs had all been restrained by metal cuffs. I tried to break the cuffs with my arms, but it didn't do anything, except bruise my wrist. The door opened, and the lady walked in. 'By the way, my name's Sarah,' she said, as though we were still in the pub. 'H-hi. Um, may I know what's going on?' I asked, very embarrassed that she was seeing me naked. 'Oh, don't worry about that. I restrained you,' she replied as-a-matter-of-factly. Why?' I demanded an answer. 'You know, so you wouldn't be able to escape.' 'Escape? Escape from what?!' 'This,' she said, bringing her right arm from behind her back, revealing a pair of nunchucks. 'What?!' 'Oh, don't worry,' she assured, her tone not at all reassuring, 'These won't hurt at all. I've heard that the testicles are really resistant to shock.' My eyes widened in horror. 'W-what?! What are you going to do?! Please let me go! Look, I don't have an erection, so you don't have to deal with anything!' 'No erection? Oh, right. You know, let's make that fact no longer true.' With that, she threw the nunchucks down on the floor, the wooden sticks letting out a cluck. She then brought my penis up and into her mouth, and started sucking while her tongue circled my head. 'Ohh...' I moaned. 'There, there's an erection right there,' she said. My penis was rock-hard again. 'Huh? What?' 'All right. While you stay there and daze, I'll just start inflicting some pain.' I suddenly remembered what she was saying. 'What?! NO! NO! Please! Not on the testicles!' I pleaded. 'Don't worry. You might even find it pleasurable. See, you even have an erection!' I tried to will my erection away, even though I knew she wouldn't let me go anyway. Then, it started. She seemed a novice at using the nunchucks, but when you're bound, and your legs are spread apart, even a rubber band can inflict some serious pain, let alone a girl with a real weapon. She held one end of the weapon, and swung the other in a circular motion before bringing it straight up between my legs. I groaned. A dull ache started to spread throughout my abdomen. 'Oh God...' 'Oh come on, baby, it's hardly even started yet,' she said, contorting her mouth to make an 'O' shape to mimic a baby speaking. I cringed at her attempt, even as my balls were aching. 'What? Oh. You don't find it hard enough? I'll try my best, then, dear!' She held both ends of the nunchucks with both her arms, and brought both up together onto my legs. Even though the area was larger, it meant that the force of her impact was a lot harder. I groaned again. 'Please...' I begged again. 'Why are you doing this?' I pleaded for an answer. 'I really like you,' she said. 'What?! Then why are you doing this?' 'Oh, it's a natural contraceptive. I don't ever want to have kids. I'm not going to insert stuff into my pussy as contraceptive. If you let me do this, you will never get anyone pregnant. Isn't that a small price to pay?' 'What? NO! I still want to have kids! I'll use a condom!' I shot at her. Why I decided to embrace the fact that we were getting married, I didn't know. 'Well, I don't think that's in your power, dear.' I started to wonder if what she said might be true. If she really loved me, why would she inflict such agony on me? 'You know what, I knew these nunchucks wouldn't be as effective as my machine.' She left the room, and I was left there to wonder what she meant as the ache started to subside. I thanked God. Is it already over? The answer was obvious, because minutes later, she walked back in with a large machine that was similar in size and shape to a computer CPU. However, there was a small paddle attached to a thick, black rod. I wondered what it was for, though not for long. 'Baby, look at this bad boy. It will help automate the contraceptive process. This thing here,' she said as she took the paddle attachment in hand, 'Will slap your testicles as long as it would take to stop your sperm production, and as fast as I want it to be.' I did not know what to feel. She did some arrangements to the height of my restraints. I had no idea how she managed to lift me off the ground, but she did. She then pressed a button on the machine that caused the paddle attachment to be only held by two metal welds to the machine by the sides, so that it can rotate vertically. 'Dear, get ready, it will hurt you a lot,' she said, 'But it's all worth it!' She pressed another button, which caused the paddle to start rotating, and pushed the attachment right between my legs. The paddle was flexible, so it would flex, making slapping my testicles every time it spun one round not a problem at all. 'Ah, perfect height! I'll see you in awhile,' she said, before she left the room. 'Oh God...' I said out loud, as the machine slapped my testicles. At first, I just closed my eyes and decided to just take it like a man, but the ache quickly skyrocketed, and I couldn't take the pain anymore. I started to scream in pain, and my eyes watered as the pain got to more than I could take. This went on for a few more minutes, and I was already buckling against the restraints as though my life depended on it. Hearing the ruckus, Sarah decided to come in and check on me. 'What's going on? How are you feeling?' Through all the pain in my balls and the ache in my abdomen, it was hard to do anything other than moan and groan, let alone swear at her. 'Mmm,' she sang, 'Is someone getting grumpy? Maybe it's time to check on your progress.' As she finished, she stopped the machine. Even though my balls still hurt extremely badly, I found solace in knowing that the torture was done, even if temporarily. 'Oh God, dear, the machine was on the high settings which were only meant for solely inflicting pain! I'm so sorry!' she apologized. Whether she was just putting on an act, I had no idea. But I reveled in the situation. She released my restraints, and I fell to the floor shoulder first. I heard a barely audible crack, but the pain was no match for my tormented genitals. I groaned; the fall had made me squeeze my tortured balls in between my legs. She left the room, presumably to get a first aid kid to see what she could do. I made slow movements to checking to see if my balls were damaged in any way. It was hard, but I eventually managed to take a look at them. They were very red from the spanking, and had swollen to the size of tennis balls. I cringed. Surely they aren't really damaged permanently? I lay there for what seemed like a half hour, as I felt the pain disappear very, very slowly. I tried to stand up at one point, but it only re-ignited the aching. I learned to not try. She came in later with what I assumed to be some lotion or ointment. 'Mick, open your legs,' she demanded. 'N-No!' I refused. One time was enough. I wasn't going to risk her driving her knuckles straight into my baby-makers, if they can even be called that now. 'No, please, I'm sorry! I'm trying to do all I can to ease your pain!' she pleaded. 'No! Go away!' I refused once again and pushed her away. She lost her balance, tripped on her own legs and fell on her bottom. 'Alright, listen up Mick. Either I apply lotion on your balls and you can lay there all you want, or I will tie you up to the machine again and I will set the frequency to ten times a second,' she said. I shuddered at the thought of my balls being brutally beaten again, so I slowly opened my legs up. She took out a tube, and squeezed out a large amount of white, gooey liquid onto her palm and proceeded to rub my balls. It was still aching, but no amount of aching can prevent an erection when a girl is rubbing your balls lovingly. She rubbed the lotion all over the shaft of my penis, and even pulled down the skin and applied it on my glans. The lotion started to numb the pain within seconds and my whole genital area felt really cool. But soon enough, it started. It started to burn. 'Oh God!' I screamed in pain. 'WHAT IS THIS?!' I shouted at her, demanding an explanation. 'This is lotion! I-I use it to ease my muscle aches sometimes!' she answered. 'What lotion is this?!' 'IcyHot! It works all the time!' 'WHAT?! ICYHOT?!' I shouted at the top of my voice at her. 'W-What's wrong?' she questioned nervously, her voice quivering, obviously oblivious to its effects. 'IT BURNS THE BALLS, YOU BITCH!' 'Oh my God! I'm so sorry! So sorry, sorry, sorry...' The next one hour was the worst hour of my life. Ever. As my balls burned, I rubbed them as hard as I could to try and get the IcyHot off, but the rough treatment meant my balls started to ache again. My eyes started to water, and I couldn't move at all. Sarah tried to ease the pain by using her high-pressure shower hose to direct water at my balls. 'No, don't -- ' I started. She turned on her shower to the maximum pressure and sprayed. 'OH GOD SARAH STOP!' I screamed at the top of my voice. The high-pressure water was akin to somebody using their bare hands to squeeze my testicles, as the water shot at high-speed to my vas deferens. In hindsight, it was still worth it. I'll tell you why. After the whole incident, she lifted me to her bed, all the while with me moaning as a result of the movement. 'Tell you what, Mick. Since I caused you so much pain, I will make it up to you by offering to you the exact opposite of pain.' 'H-Huh?' I stammered. I acted like I didn't know what she meant, but deep down I knew she was going to do something really, really great. 'You'll see, Mick.' She spread my legs open, and while I resisted a little in fear, I still gave in to my primal need for pleasure. She slid my foreskin down, and started to lick my glans penis, while she pumped my shaft. I was in heaven. She may have forgotten what she did earlier, and fondled my balls roughly, but the pain was worth it. Indeed, it even heightened the experience. Soon, I felt a pressure at the base of my penis. 'S-Sarah...I'm going to -- ' 'Shut up, and do what you do,' she cut me off. As I passed the point of no return, my penis started to spasm, and I came so hard, and so much. She just sucked my penis as though it was a straw and swallowed my cum. 'Don't worry, Mick. That's not the end of it. I will make you cum this hard, every day.' Of course, I married her. She may have tried to use what simply amounted to mindless torture as a 'natural contraceptive', her blowjobs and handjobs every single day more than made up for it. Oh, my balls? They weren't damaged at all. We eventually had kids. She probably should've went through with her contraceptive plan, though. The kids got in the way of the daily pleasure sometimes. Heaven and Hell "I'm not sure about this," Ella called to me above the noise of her hairdryer. "You're the one who agreed to go. If you'd asked me I'd have told you to say we're busy." I shifted on the sofa and flicked aimlessly through the channels full of celebrities I've never heard of. The hairdryer noise ceased and a few seconds later Ella appeared at the doorway of the living room. "Going like that are you?" I joked as she pulled her bath robe tighter. She's always been conscious of her body and even though we're married it's still a task to get her naked. "At least I'd know what I was wearing. I hate fancy dress." "So you should have said no! Plus it's not fancy dress, it's a costumed masquerade party," I said, reading from the invitation on the coffee table. "Same thing," she said as she perched on the arm of a chair. "You know I couldn't say no. She's my boss." "She's not really your boss, is she? She works with your boss." "Yeah." "At head office." "Yeah." "Where you don't have to see her," I said with a stare that let her know I blamed her for dragging me along. "I'm going to finish getting ready," Ella sighed and left the room. I took another glance at the invitation. It didn't give much information other than the theme of Heaven and Hell and an address. Obviously I'd looked on Google maps but all I could see was that it was a big house in a street of big houses. All of which had high hedges and large gates that prevented nosy people like me from seeing much online. I watched TV for a bit, almost dying of boredom, before the doorbell startled me. I waited for Ella to answer it but soon realised she must have been upstairs. "I'll get it then," I muttered to myself as I rose from the sofa and went into the hallway. I opened the door with a smile and an enthusiastic "Hello" and hoped our guests would believe the fake sincerity. "Hi, you must be Ella's husband. We've heard so much about you," said the woman already pushing past me. "Nice to meet you," said her companion as he nearly crushed my hand. "Where is she then?" she asked as she peered in every door she could find. "Upstairs I think..." Before I could say Ella would be right down, she had rushed up the stairs. "You'll have to excuse Collette; she gets very excitable about parties like this. Well, I'm sure we all do." He smiled as though I was part of an in-joke. "Oh, absolutely." I shut the door and showed him into the living room. From what I had glimpsed of Collette, she was a reasonable looking woman in her early forties, although she dressed in a way to make her appear more youthful. Her short blonde hair framed her glasses nicely and she seemed to be in decent shape. Not that it had been easy to see under her long coat and the bag she clutched. "So you've been married for less than a year then?" "What? Oh, yes. Only a few months," I replied. He had already sat down in my place on the sofa and was glancing at the TV. "Married life is great," he said. I still didn't know who he was. "So you're married to Collette then?" He looked at me as though I were stupid. "For nearly twenty years now. Can't believe you watch this shit," he said as he pointed to the screen. "I don't really. It's just there's nothing on." He picked up the remote and typed in a number. "You don't even have the footy channels? Jesus. I wouldn't let Collette control me like that. Tell you what, you get us a drink and I'll get our costumes ready." "Yeah, sure." Nobhead. I went and took as long as I could to get us a beer from the fridge. This was going to be a long night. Still, if it was a big party then we could always sneak away from them. Or maybe just kill him and bury him in the huge garden. I eventually carried the cans through to the living room. "Jesus," I said as I saw what he was wearing. "Not quite," he grinned and took a can. He was dressed in a monk's habit. It looked like an oversized brown bath robe tied with rope. "There's yours," he pointed to the other habit on the table. I put my beer down and picked up the costume. I got my arm halfway into the sleeve before he commented. "You don't wanna do that. You'll be roasting." "So you aren't wearing a shirt underneath?" He scoffed. "Wear as little as possible." He opened his habit to show me what he had on, or rather didn't have on, underneath. All he wore was a pair of white underpants that left little to the imagination. Coupled with a physique that said he regularly frequented the gym it meant I was more than reluctant to strip off. I removed my shirt and slipped the habit on. Only then did I take off my jeans and socks. Letting him see my slim upper body was one thing but I wasn't going to let him see my boxers or chicken legs too. With the habit on, I then had to put the sandals on. I hate sandals and they only added to my discomfort. "Perfect," he said. I picked up my wallet but caught his gaze which told me I'd made another mistake. "Won't I need it?" He shook his head. "Drinks are free, you have your ticket." "What about ID?" "It's a masquerade party. Surely the whole point is to be anonymous?" I placed my wallet back on the table. It was probably too late to ask his name so we sat in almost silence drinking and watching what he wanted to. Eventually we heard footsteps on the stairs. "Is heaven ready to see hell?" Collette called from outside the room. "Absolutely," her husband replied. Collette entered almost dragging Ella behind her. I could see why and my eyes went wide at the sight. They were dressed as devils although that was little more than a set of silk horns they wore. Collette had on fishnet stockings, a red corset that fitted well over her small breasts and a black thong. She made a point of giving us a twirl to see her little devil tail. I tried to avoid looking through embarrassment. Collette's husband wasn't embarrassed to look at her or Ella. She was dressed in things even I struggle to convince her to wear. A black underbust basque covered her stomach beneath a red and black bra. Always self-conscious of her large breasts, Ella had one arm up to cover them but it was futile. She wore black stockings that accentuated her legs. Despite her own thoughts, I've always found Ella's body sexy. Medium height, not too skinny but no real excess fat anywhere. As Collette turned Ella to show her tail, I saw the only victory Ella must have had. The basque had come with a thong but instead she was wearing black French knickers. She looked incredible but it felt awkward that it wasn't only me watching her. "Come on then, let's get going," Collette said enthusiastically. She went out first with her husband not far behind. I took the opportunity to pull Ella to one side. "We don't have to go." "It's a bit late now." I could tell she wanted to stay. "What if we go but make an excuse to leave early?" "OK," she nodded. I picked up my keys and followed Ella outside. Before I'd turned to lock the door, Collette pushed past me, holding Ella's coat that she hadn't managed to get on. "We're only going from the car to the house and back. It's warm enough to leave it behind." I looked to Ella who was obviously struggling to think of a reason to protest. "We were going to put our keys in her coat," I said to Collette as she stepped back outside. She snatched the keys from my hand, locked the door. "Nonsense. Damien will drive." I was dumbstruck as she placed the keys behind a plant pot and dragged Ella to the car. I had hoped the ride would give Ella and me a chance to plot our escape. Instead she was in the back seat with Ella whilst I sat in the front alongside Damien. Quite appropriate really, travelling to a Heaven and Hell party with a man named after the son of the Devil. From what I could overhear, Collette spent most of the journey telling Ella how wonderful the night would be. For most of the ride I was subjected to Damien showing me every feature of his car, from the music system to the built-in sat-nav and DVD player. Each thing he showed me was followed by me having to tell him our car didn't have it. Apparently if I kept working hard I'd be able to afford a car like his. I think he meant to come across as encouraging and friendly. Instead he seemed smug and annoying. I was almost relieved when we reached the road full of huge houses. All of the gates appeared the same but we soon slowed at one and waited as the gates slowly parted. The tyres crunched over gravel as we slowly drove up the long driveway. Before it opened out to where people had parked, we saw a masked man waiting for us. "Time to put these on," Collette said as she handed each of us our mask. I looked at mine. It wasn't some tacky cardboard thing I had expected. Instead it was well made and covered in silk. I put it on and it sat surprisingly comfortably over my face. It covered my eyes and there were elongated pieces at the side to cover my cheeks. Only my mouth was exposed and it suddenly made me feel anonymous. I glanced back to Ella, who forced a smile from beneath her mask. I hoped it would at least make her a bit more relaxed. With our masks on, Damien drove slowly up to the waiting man. He pressed the button to make the window open and the man leaned in. "Your invitations, please." Invitation. Shit. I didn't have it. I panicked and then that turned to joy. I didn't have our invitation. We wouldn't have to go in! "Sorry," I said to Damien. "I think I left ours at home." "Good job I'm observant," he smiled as he waved two invitations in the air and handed them to the man. "Picked yours up when we left." "Thanks." The man waved us on and Damien drove to the side of the house where we parked on a gravel forecourt alongside a dozen other cars. We got out and Damien locked the car before leaning underneath it. "Problem?" I said hopefully. "Just hiding the keys. Can hardly keep them in my pants can I?" "He can't keep anything in his pants," Collette quipped. They laughed and strode off towards the door. I took Ella's hand and we nervously followed. It looked like a large Georgian house that wouldn't be out of place on a period drama. My knowledge of architecture is poor though and so I was still surprised by the size of the hall we stepped into. There had been carved pumpkins outside but inside was amazing. Fake cobwebs covered the place and there were skeletons and creepy crawlies everywhere. There was even a witch's cauldron with smoke billowing out across the floor. There were also people. Lots of people. Monks moved around, barely distinguishable from one another. It would have been hard to tell Damien and me apart if he hadn't been twice my size. As for the women, they were all dressed in what is normally reserved for very occasional bedroom play. Ella was comparatively overdressed as corsets and stockings were everywhere. One woman passed us and smiled. I tried not to smile back in case Ella saw and thought I was enjoying the fact that she had foregone a bra in place of red tassels on her nipples. "Let's get some drinks," Damien said. We passed the stairs and went to the rear of the house. It was only as we entered the kitchen that I realised something was different. Ella was taller than me. I looked down and saw that she had on a pair of red shoes with a three or four inch heel on. "Where did you get them from?" "I leant them to her," Collette said. "Can't have her wandering around in flats at a party. A girl needs to show off!" Ella never wore heels. Besides, she was showing off enough as it was. I almost felt bad for taking so long to notice. Mind you, there were a lot of distractions. Collette handed us each a cocktail she had poured from a punch bowl that had been made to look like another cauldron. It tasted fairly nice although the edge was probably taken off it by my attention being on two women on the other side of the kitchen. One was pouring shots onto her neck and the other was licking them off as the liquid reached her cleavage. "I don't feel so uncomfortable now." There were a few guys egging them on to do another shot. The drinker refused, much to their annoyance, but they swapped places and got a cheer. "I said I don't feel so uncomfortable now," Ella repeated, closer to my ear. "Well that's good, isn't it?" "Yeah, I was worried all the attention would be on me," she pointed to her breasts. "My attention is on you," I smiled. "Oh, clearly," she said as she nodded to the shots girls. "Sorry, I..." I stopped my apology when I saw her smirk. "Don't worry, I was watching too. Can't believe anyone would want all that attention on them." Collette turned towards us. "Some people enjoy it. I suppose they know that they're turning people on and that excited them." "I suppose," Ella said. "Come on, plenty more to see," Collette said, leading us back to the hallway. "The rooms downstairs are nice and relaxed if that's what you're after." What we were after was an excuse to leave. "And upstairs?" Ella asked. "That's a bit more...full on," she said. "Well I'm not ready for anything too scary just yet," Ella said. "Best not to rush into things too quickly," Damien told us. "Only go up there when you're ready. We'll definitely go up but then that's us." The last sentence really wound me up. It was almost a challenge. "We'll go up at some point," I said confidently. "Great!" Collette exclaimed. She showed us around the downstairs rooms, there must have been five or six, each themed slightly differently. There was a witches' coven, a ghost train, a graveyard and a few rooms done up like horror film sets. After our tour that seemed to last forever, we were left alone by Collette and Damien who made it clear they had spent far too long downstairs with us. Thankfully by that point we'd had enough drinks for it not to bother me too much. My mind was firmly focussed on things other than pleasing them. I'd spent most of the night staring at my wife in her sexy outfit. Whenever I'd looked away to take my mind off it I'd only got an eyeful of some other scantily clad woman. There seemed to be women of all shapes and sizes here. It had obviously helped Ella to feel less self-conscious. We found ourselves in the witches' coven. It was basically a sitting room with a number of couches and chairs around. They were covered in throws that had stars and moons sewn into them. Yet another cauldron spouted smoke which billowed across the floor. Music played softly although it was chilling classical pieces to add to the atmosphere. We found a spot at the end of a sofa. I sat down and Ella sat on my lap. The rest of the sofa was occupied by a couple who probably didn't even realise we were there. They were engaged in a long and passionate kiss and in the darkness I could see her hands disappearing beneath his habit. Ella had sat so that her back was to the couple. Other people were in the room but it was dark and so most things would go unnoticed. I pulled her head towards mine and kissed her. Our tongues met and I immediately felt a surge of excitement through my body. I pulled her in tighter and moved my lips to her neck. She loves to be kissed there so I knew it would turn her on. I delicately kissed the skin, my tongue gently licking. After a few seconds I heard her moan into my ear. My hand reached up her leg and caressed the exposed skin between her stocking and her knickers. Still kissing her neck I eased my hand further up her thigh. Moving it slowly, teasing her as I got closer and closer to my goal. She leaned her neck away from me. Her hand pushed mine away. "Stop," she whispered. I had worried that the other people would have put her off. I suppose it was inevitable. "I need the loo," she continued. I sighed. There wasn't really much arguing with that. She stood up and I walked out of the room with her, my hands around her waist holding her as close to me as I could. We reached the hallway and she spun around to kiss me again. "Hurry up," I said. "Then we can go back in there." "We could just go home," she smiled. "We'd need to find Collette and Damien." "They'll be upstairs," Ella said. I looked up and even through my mask she could sense my disappointment. "I thought you said you were going up there anyway?" I rolled my eyes as she reminded me of what I'd said to Damien. "I'll go and look for them while you go to the bathroom." "Thanks," she kissed me on the cheek and walked off to the bathroom. I started walking up the stairs and suddenly felt self-conscious. It was stupid but what Damien had said made me nervous of making a fool of myself. I pulled up the hood of the habit to achieve a little more anonymity. I reached the landing and had to decide which way to go. It was even darker up here than downstairs although there were less people. Downstairs everyone seemed to wander round but up here there was barely anyone on the landing. One man walked past me to the right and headed down the corridor. I followed him but he glanced back so I made a point of choosing a different room to him. The door was open so I stepped inside. It seemed to be a bedroom although there was no bed in it. There was a mat or rug on the floor with a crudely drawn pentagram on it. The room was lit by imitation gas lamps although much of their light was obstructed by the men and women who stood around the walls. I took my place alongside another man to see what they were watching. In the centre of the room, stood at the pentagram, was a man. He seemed to be in charge although he did not speak. It crossed my mind for a moment that this could be actual devil worship although that was quickly dispelled. He looked around the room and motioned for someone to join him. A woman stepped forwards into the light. As she knelt in the pentagram I recognised Collette. Evidently we wouldn't be leaving soon. I pressed myself back against the wall and watched, wondering what was going to happen. The man before her pulled at his rope and let it fall loosely to his sides. Then he parted his habit. He was naked beneath. Even in the faint light I could tell that he was partially erect. Collette lifted her hand and took hold of his dick. She slowly stroked it, almost as though she were afraid of it. As it grew harder, she held it firmer. Then she leaned forwards and closed her mouth around the tip. There were gentle moans from around the room. I glanced at the figures in the darkness. Some were touching themselves, some each other. I looked back to Collette. Her head moved back and forth as she sucked at his cock. Her cheeks tightened each time she drew it further into her mouth. Then he held his hand up and pointed to another point on the pentagram. Another man stepped out from his watching place and stood on the mat. He opened his robe and pulled his already hard dick from his boxers. Collette acted as if it was normal. She turned and leant forwards to engulf his cock into her mouth. I watched as she licked the shaft while her hand cupped his balls. Another man joined them. He too was sucked by Collette as she continued to serve them as a room full of people watched. I felt my own dick pressing against my boxers. A fourth man joined them. On it went. The woman who had invited us here, my wife's boss, was her knees in front of four hard cocks. I realised there was a fifth place to be filled. The temptation flashed across my mind for a brief second but I couldn't do that to Ella. Ella. I'd left her downstairs. I realised I had to find her. I had to tell her what I'd seen. As the fifth man stood before Collette, I left the room to search for her. Barely two steps out of the door I caught a glimpse of her as she reached the top of the stairs. She glanced towards me but either didn't see me or didn't recognise me. Heaven and Hell "Ella," I called although not loudly enough for her to hear. She turned to her left and walked down the corridor. It was so dark and there was a smoke machine in one of the rooms that it prevented me seeing which room she had gone into. I looked in one and saw people on a large bed. At first glance it could have been people sleeping but having witnessed Collette I knew it was more than that. I assumed Ella wouldn't have joined in so quickly and so moved on. The next room was much quieter. Only a few people were in it and were watching two women dance together. I recognised one and for a second thought it was Ella. My heart skipped a beat but then I realised it was the shot girls from the beginning of the night. I was relieved but also anxious to find my wife. She didn't seem to be in any of the rooms along this part of the corridor. It was only as I was about to turn back that I realised there was another room at the end. The door wasn't fully open but instead was only ajar. I felt slightly sick as I pushed it open enough for me to step inside. There was a single light in the room, another imitation gas lamp that hung from the ceiling. Beneath it was a set of stocks, the kind used for medieval punishments. I found a space on the wall and stood between two men. As my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I realised that the majority of people in there were men. I frantically searched for Ella and caught a glimpse of her across the room. I was about to walk around to her when the door was pushed open. A woman stepped in. She walked confidently into the middle of the room and put her hand on the stocks. Like most of the women, she was in high heels, stockings, a corset and bra. Unlike the others though, her mask was different, far more elaborate. Her devil's tail was also longer. I wondered if it was her house were in, her party. "I need a volunteer," she said. I had expected a harsh, commanding voice but hers seemed smooth and comforting. "Oh, come now. It is Halloween. Surely there is a lady amongst us that will play the role of the sinner?" She smiled a warm and welcoming grin that worried me. "How about you?" My heart sank and my stomach turned. She had turned to Ella. Say no. Tell her no. Ella didn't say anything. A man beside her nudged her forwards and the woman took her by the hand. I wanted to speak out, to warn her about what she was getting into. It was deadly silent and I was worried what might happen if I said something. I coughed, hoping that Ella would look to me. Any kind of eye contact may give me a chance. Instead she followed the woman's gaze to the stocks as she lifted the top. Ella didn't need to be told what to do. She uneasily knelt on the floor and leaned forwards. Her arms rested in the smaller holes to each side of her neck. The woman lowered the stocks, trapping Ella inside. I heard the clink of a lock and knew that Ella had no escape. I looked at her, on her knees, bent forwards with her hands and head trapped in the stocks. I looked at the stockings, her French knickers that hinted at her arse beneath, the basque that held her body in an hourglass shape, her big breasts hanging in her lace bra, and I felt my cock harden. "A sinner must be silenced," the woman said. I saw her lift something before she stood over Ella's head. There were muffled moans but it was only when the woman stood back that I realised what she'd done. Ella had been gagged. It had been tied around her head so that a strap filled her mouth. I caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes. Part of me wanted to step forwards and save her. Part of me didn't. It was the part hardening in my boxers that controlled my movements. I stood back and watched. The woman moved behind Ella, lifting a paddle. She didn't speak. Instead she raised the paddle and brought it down hard onto Ella's arse. There was a loud smack as it hit. Ella winced. Again it was raised. Again it smacked into her arse. With each smack of the paddle, Ella's winces lessened and her moans grew. There were moans around the room too. There was only one other woman in the room. I watched her for a while as I listened to the punishment my wife was receiving. The woman watching had her knickers pulled to one side. One of the men beside her had his fingers buried in her pussy. His habit was open and her hand jerked at his cock. Her other hand was gripped around the dick of the man beside her. All three of them watched as Ella was spanked again and again and again. My eyes must have been on Ella when the first guy came but I turned back to see the cum of the second man splashing onto the floor. They slipped out of the room almost unnoticed as Ella's punishment came to an end. "A sinner faced public humiliation," the woman said as she placed the paddle on the floor. I was relieved that Ella had escaped what could have been far worse. There was movement around the walls as everyone realised it was coming to an end. I started to walk towards Ella. "After punishment, the sinner was left for the villagers to do with as they pleased," the woman said to my horror. I had to step aside for her to leave and as I did it allowed some of the other men to move in around Ella. I heard her muffled objections but they were ignored by the group. I tried to get into a position to see what was going on but there was so much movement. Those men who weren't immediately around her were either leaving or finding a good vantage point. While the man next to me opened his habit and started stroking his dick, I caught a glimpse of Ella's bra being undone. I moved around, trying to see what was going on. I leaned down and saw that her bra now hung loosely and empty from her restrained arms. One of her breasts was swinging beneath her but the other was being groped by someone. I got near her head, hoping to reach the lock and free her. As I did I heard her speak. "No, ple..." It was muffled once more. They had removed her gag but she now had her mouth full of something else. A dick was being forced into her mouth. Her eyes widened as she struggled but I saw her jaw relax and her tongue even began moving. Was she willingly doing it? The guy knelt in front of her began a slow and steady rhythm in and out of her mouth. She wasn't moving away when he withdrew. She hadn't turned away. She waited each time for his cock to return and sucked it into her mouth. I looked to the other side of the stocks. There seemed to be some sort of order after the pushing and shoving to get to her. To her right, one guy was on his knees, his habit was open and he stroked his hard cock with one hand, occasionally slapping it onto her back. With his free hand he squeezed her breast. Opposite him was another guy. He stood and his dick was exposed but he wasn't touching himself. Instead he was smacking Ella's arse. They had pulled her French knickers up and to the side. Her skin was reddened from the spanking she had earlier received but that didn't deter this new man. Behind her I saw the inevitable. A guy was on his knees, his habit open and his dick hard and ready. His hand was reached towards her. I needed to see. I moved around to join what seemed to be a queue, a line of men waiting their turn. There were two men between me and the man who fingered my wife. Stood slightly behind her and to the right I had a perfect view of her exposed pussy. He pulled his fingers from her and I could see they were shiny from her wetness. I couldn't believe my wife, my restrained and embarrassed wife, was enjoying it. The guy placed the tip of his dick at her pussy and pushed forwards. I watched as it slowly slipped inside. Her pussy stretched as it took the head in. Then the shaft slid easily into her. We all heard her moan as his full length filled her. For the first couple of strokes he was slow but then he began hammering his cock in and out. This wasn't making love, this was pure fucking. The man to Ella's left clearly enjoyed it as his cum spurted from his cock. Some splashed over her basque, the rest landed in dots on her knickers. Before he had finished, the guy in her pussy started to cum. He gripped her hips and held his dick deep inside her as he emptied his balls into my wife. Finally finished, he moved away and I could see the faint trace of cum at her pussy lips. With two men having cum, the line moved on. The spanker who had stood to her left had taken his place behind Ella. The two men in front of me had gone to her sides. They groped her tits and arse as a new cock slipped into her pussy. Unlike the first guy, this one preferred long, slow strokes. Long was the right word. He must have been 8 or 9 inches and he made sure all of it pushed into Ella's pussy with each thrust. She clearly enjoyed it. I heard her moans increase as he slowly brought her to climax. He didn't change his pace, making her wait until she finally cried out in orgasm. I then realised that one of the men at her head had gone. Another man was knelt in front of her. I moved around slightly to see and was shocked. Maybe it was the mask but Ella hates cum near her face. What I saw was her mouth around another man's cock while someone else's cum dripped down from her mask. My attention was brought back to the guy fucking Ella. He grunted as he shot his cum inside her. The first couple of spurts filled her pussy but he then pulled out to let the remaining cum splash onto her arse and pussy. I made sure I caught a glimpse of the cum that was now leaking from my wife's pussy. As he left, his place was taken by the man nearest me. I watched as he shoved his stubby little dick into her well-fucked pussy and began hammering away. As I knelt at her right side I looked at the man opposite me. The white underpants pushed down beneath his balls told me it was Damien. I hoped that he didn't recognise me. Thankfully his attention was drawn to the guy moaning at Ella's mouth. I too looked in time to see streams of cum splashing onto her mask. He had barely finished before his place was taken by another. A groan to my left told me that the latest guy to fuck her had finished. He had barely lasted two minutes but it was enough to add his load to the others. Now Damien knelt behind Ella. I hoped she wouldn't enjoy it but I knew she would. I'd seen the size of his dick. Mine is a decent size but his seemed bigger and thicker. I watched intently as he pushed into her pussy and cum oozed out around the sides. Immediately, Ella began to moan in unison with the thrusts. He was hard and fast. The stocks shook as he fucked my wife harder than anyone that night. She screamed in orgasm onto the dick in her mouth. Damien didn't stop. On and on he pounded her pussy and she soon moaned another climax. I daren't touch myself in case I came. I was watching a man I detested fuck my wife while she sucked another man's cock and yet I hadn't been that aroused for years. My eyes were transfixed on Damien's cock as it disappeared into her pussy and reappeared each time with cum on it. Harder and harder he fucked until he eventually began to moan. Every spurt of cum from his cock went into her well used pussy. When he did finally withdraw he squeezed the last drop onto her before wiping the cum of his predecessors from his cock onto her knickers. He paid me no attention as he left the room. Finally it was my turn. There was only me and the guy at Ella's mouth left. A few others still watched but they didn't seem to want to take part. I looked down at her. The basque was splattered with cum. Her knickers had been yanked to the right, exposing her left cheek. They were barely black any more. So much cum had landed on them that they seemed almost white with black spots. Her pussy was like I'd never seen it. It was gaping open and inside I could see a pool of cum from the four men who had fucked her. Thin trails of cum ran down her thighs and formed small white streams on her black stockings. I pulled open my habit and grabbed at my boxers, almost tearing them out of the way. My rock hard cock twitched in anticipation as I placed it at my wife's pussy. I took a breath and pushed forwards. Warmth and wetness surrounded my dick. She was now much looser than I was used to but it still felt good. Fuck did it feel good. I kept my thrusts at a steady pace. Too fast and I would cum too quickly. She shifted her weight slightly, raising her hips so that my cock pressed more onto her clit. I reached my hand around her leg until my fingers reached her clit. Well-lubricated from the cum, I rubbed hard and fast and heard her moan in ecstasy onto the remaining guy's dick. He pulled out of her mouth and walked over to where I knelt behind her. I wondered if he was going to fuck her as well but then I realised what he wanted. I paused my thrusts, leaning back so that only the head of my cock remained in Ella's pussy. I watched as he jerked his dick until his cum landed in jets across her lower back and arse. Half of his cum was onto her knickers but the rest slowly began to slide down across her arse cheek, over her arse and to her pussy where my cock resumed its thrusts. He left me as the last man with Ella and I made sure to give her a hard fucking. I was going to cum fairly quickly so I thought I'd give it everything. I fucked her as hard as I could, ramming my dick into her so that her hips rose up and her knees lifted from the floor. I reached forwards to grab the top of the stocks, pulling on it to thrust further, harder and deeper. She screamed another orgasm but it didn't stop me. I felt the pleasure rising in my dick. My balls began to tighten and the pleasure washed through my body as my orgasm took over. My cock erupted and shot after shot of cum added to the pool in her pussy. It seemed never ending but finally I fell back, slipping out of her. I copied Damien, milking the last few drops onto her arse. Finished, I stood up and saw that the woman who had started all of this was watching us. She waited for me to move out of the way before she spoke. "Anyone else?" There was no movement towards Ella from the remaining voyeurs. "Then she can be released." As she walked over to get the key, I suddenly panicked. What if Ella knew I had seen it happen? What if she'd wanted me to stop it? I tied up my habit and hurried out of the room. As I neared the stairs I saw Damien chatting to Collette. There were a few other people walking down and so I timed it to walk with them as I passed. Even with my mask on and hood up I worried they knew the truth. Collette looked at me as I walked past but didn't give me a second glance. My heart raced as I tried to figure out what to do. I reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. Damien and Collette had started to come down so I quickly moved into the kitchen. No one downstairs was paying attention to me so I poured myself half a glass of cocktail and turned around. I walked out, calmly, as though I didn't have a care in the world. Damien and Collette were heading towards me. They didn't recognise me until I spoke. "Hey Collette," I said. "I was just looking for Ella." I daren't look at Damien in case he knew. Would he tell the truth or lie? "We've not seen her in a while," he lied. "We can head off if you do manage to find her." Collette said happily. "Oh look, there she is now." Ella was at the bottom of the stairs, the woman who had punished her had just left her to return upstairs. As we walked over, I tried to subtly look at her clothing. She kept her front to us, presumably so we couldn't see the cum stains. Her bra was back on and her knickers pulled back in place. There were still faint traces of the cum trails on her stockings though. The biggest difference was her mask. It was clean, almost completely new. "You Ok?" I asked her. She gently nodded but I could have sworn I saw the beginnings of a smirk before she turned away. As we walked to the car, Ella kept her hands behind her back. We sat next to each other in the car but the conversation was centred on Damien and his amazing career. It was as though the evening had never happened. Back home Ella wanted to go straight to bed. I agreed and let her use the bathroom first. Whilst she was in there I searched through her things but found nothing. She emerged in her bath robe, claiming to have put her things in the laundry. She had her clean mask with her which she threw on the side table alongside mine. In the bathroom I found nothing in the laundry basket but her bra. It was only when I went searching through the airing cupboard I discovered the evidence. There, hidden behind the towels, was a pair of cum-stained stockings, cum-covered knickers and a mask that barely had a cum-free spot left. My cock got hard just looking at them.