Chapter 12

Helen lived close to her work place, Pink Bodies.

During the day, the place looked nondescript.  The bulbous circles that were supposed to be blaring with pink lights, attracting the attention of those looking for someone to comfort their loneliness or take the edge off of their day-to-day stress blended in with the concrete streets.  Artemvian that the building itself was a dull-pink, no doubt designed to stand out amongst the other plain-looking buildings.

Artemvian stood on a corner, watching men dressed in black enter carrying boxes of liquor.

“Sneaking out is out of the question.”  If there were employees in there, he’d be noticed.

After seeing the agent of the state, Artemvian had been forced to stick to the alleyways and avoid crowds.  No doubt that there would be people looking for him so he walked around with his Mana Sense taut, ready to sense the slightest hint of hostility.  Which was why he observed Pink Bodies without barging in, at the rate that information traveled in this world; he had no way of knowing how people would react.

Or he could stick to his instincts.

Seeing how seedy this place was, there was no way that they were willing collaborators of the State.  The darker parts of society would always be wary against those who walked in the light.

Thinking of the cop woman spurred Artem’s steps, he didn’t want to fight her again if he could help it.

It wouldn't be wise to make enemies of the state so early on in his life here.

Artemvian walked across the parking lot, putting an easy smile on his face.  One of the workers, with a particularly noticeable gut, saw him approach and made an X with his arms.  “We’re not open yet pal.”

“I know.  I just want to talk.”  Artemvian took off his sunglasses, stowing them in his pocket.  “I’m looking for Helen.”

The man’s eyes shifted, from neutral to outright wary.  His body language changed as well; he had been standing in front of the door, facing Artemvian but now, he looked ready to run.  Briefly wondering if he knew something about Helen or it was his instinct to be wary of outsiders, Artemvian waited.

“She’s not here.”

“Then I want to talk to someone who was close with her.”  Artemvian took a step closer, smiling.  “Were you close with her?”

“Look man, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

Artemvian saw the man’s name tag which read ‘Jack’.

“Jack, I’m just looking for Helen and won’t cause any trouble.  You sure you can’t just let me in?”

“Hey, I said-”

Then Artem put his hand in his pocket, flashing Celene’s badge from underneath his jacket.  Artemvian was careful to leave part of the badge hidden in the shadow of his jacket, the words were too small to be read without a closeup look anyways.  But considering the type of physical enhancements that these people could get their hands on –even the regular civilians– he wanted to be careful.

“I want to keep this quiet.”  Artemvian put the badge away seeing that the man stiffened.

“...Follow me.”  He motioned to one of the men unloading cargo boxes.  “Hey, watch the door for me, would you?”

“Who’s that?”

“Mind your own business, will ya?”  Without further explanation, the two stepped into Pink Bodies.

The place was everything that Artemvian expected.  Beer stains on the floor and walls, long lounging couches of flamboyant colors; countertops made to serve drinks with over a dozen stools surrounding them.  At the center of the place was an elevated stage with a pole in the middle that extended all the way to the ceiling; two smaller stages were on either side of it.  It reminded him of the entertainment houses back home, except just bigger and more of… everything, really.

Alcohol, vomit and the scent of wildflowers tickled Artemvian’s nose.  Whisperings turned his attention to one of the stages where a number of women had gathered, talking, laughing and shooting him glances out the side of his eye.  One of them waved and winked; her fingers made of Cyberware.  She wasn’t the only one, many of the women –and men, Artemvian realized with a startling thought– had Cyberware Enhancements.

But besides all that, something pressed on his senses; like someone took a finger and started pressing down on his forehead.

Artemvian recognized the mana signature and instantly felt more at home.

“Of course.”  He muttered softly, stopping in his tracks.

“Hey.  What’s the deal? It’s this way.”

Ignoring the man, Artemvian stretched out his Mana in a fine, delicate web.  He found what he was looking for immediately.

“This way, that way.  Isn’t it all the same way anyways?.”  Artemvian turned on his heel, entering a small corridor and going up the stairs.

“That’s the wrong way!”

“No, it’s not.  It’s the right way.”  The mage followed the trail of mana and conveniently took a right turn and seeing a set of stairs.  “Whoever this guy is, I want to talk to this person.”

“You do not, hey! Stop! I’m warning you!”

Artemvian did the opposite, skipping up the stairs in twos and leaving the heavyset man behind.  From what he could see, the man didn’t try too hard.

All hail stairs, the nemesis of full-bodied men no matter the world.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Artemvian opened the door.  Ambient mana fumed out of the room like a solid wall of gas and Artemvian fought not to be intoxicated by it.

The room was a small office, a metal desk and almost nothing else; except a chair, couch and coffee table.  Immediately, Artemvian could tell that this office used to belong to Helen, judging by her photograph hanging by the wall.  The photograph looked like Helen, except younger and certainly wearing less clothing than what was appropriate for a woman her age.  He made sure to keep his hands visible, reaching out for a handshake.

“Hello.”

The woman behind the desk was younger than Helen, but older than the girls downstairs.  She wasn’t dressed in dancer attire but what went for formal wear in this world; a business suit if Artemvian recalled.  She was pretty, not overtly so but pleasantly; like the girl who drew looks from all the boys when she drew water from the well.  Light brown hair tinged with neon blue at the edges, a pert nose sharp blue eyes that glared at Artemvian then at the man who entered shortly after, breathing hard.

“Tracy, I’m sorry.  This guy’s a cop and he just barged in here.  He doesn’t have a warrant or anything, I’ll get him out of here.”  Artemvian sensed the man trying to put a hand on his elbow.

Artemvian could have used magic and in fact, that was his first instinct.

But he didn’t.

Instead he let the man touch him, then said, “Helen Papier.”

Again, both people stiffened, barely noticeable.

“You all know something.”  Artemvian continued, “I’m guessing you know something about the fact that she’s missing.  Now, either you all care about her or don’t care about her.  If it’s the former, I’m here to help.”  He put a hand over his heart.  “Cross my heart.”

“And the latter?”  Tracy’s voice was deep and kind of throaty; it was the type of voice that men associated with girls who’d get them in trouble.  Not the type of girl where you could ask out on a date with a flower in your hand, but the type of girl you were likely to meet in a dark alley while she held a knife to your throat.

“I’ll leave this place alone.  But if something does turn up in regards to Helen’s disappearance and it’s connected to this place, well I certainly won’t be playing nice the next time I visit.”  Artemvian shrugged, his gaze on Tracy anything but friendly.  “Maybe I’ll find out what you’re all hiding here.”

And with those last words, he sent a pulse of mana towards the woman; specifically her hand that was on the desk.

The man didn’t even notice as the woman shoved her hands below the desk; her eyes wide with shock.

“...I’ll talk to him.”

“You sure, Tracy?  I could toss him out.”  But the man looked unsure.

She nodded and he left, closing the door behind him.

Tracy didn’t get up from behind her desk.  “You’re the mage, the one who trashed the Hammerheads the other day.”

“I am trending!”  Artemvian said delightedly.  “And you are…”  He smiled wickedly.  “A succubus.”

“Not a descendant of one nor someone who made a pact with a succubus.  But a real, bona-fide flesh and blood Succubus.  By Blasted Sulfur and Hellfire, I never thought I’d be happy to see your kind again.”  Artemvian leaned forward, gesturing to the seat across from him with his chin.  “I have so, so, so many questions.”