Second Part of Fifth Beginning

The room ahead was wide and open, the size of a small factory. The expanse was lit by dim floating grey spheres. In the center, a set of rooms rose up, two or three stories high. There were windows in some of the rooms and brighter light came from some of them.

The inside of the building walls were the same brick as the outside. The floor was dusty cement for the most part. Dotted across the floor were squares of bare dirt. There were people laying in about half of the squares. Four people to each square. There were cobwebs everywhere. The air was thick with an odor that seemed to be a mix of old dog food and rotting fruit.

Charles swallowed. “Are they dead?”

Sums cocked her head. “I hadn’t considered that. My first thought was that you’d found a slave distribution center. Dead people would be much less dangerous.”

“I think we should leave and come back with a police escort.”

“Providing you can find a way out, I agree.”

Charles groped back through the alcove. His voice came out. “No shelf. No button.”

Sums walked forward. The nearest square was only a few paces away. The people in it were covered with cobwebs. She bent to examine them. The cobwebs were wrapped tightly around them – completely around them. They were laying on part of the wrapping.

Not wanting to touch the strands, she picked out the nearest square with uncovered people in it and walked over. She could hear Charles insulting the button behind her. It was worth a shot, she supposed. She bent again and touched a foot. It was cold and stiff. The shoe it wore was scuffed and dirty. The rest of the clothes were also the worse for wear.

She stood and did a rough count. When Charles came back out, he hesitated at walking into the room. She considered having pity on him, but decided he needed to get over his repulsion and waited for him to come up to her.

“There are more than a hundred,” she said. “Maybe more on the other side of the center, there.”

“They’re dead, aren’t they.”

“Yes. I’m surprised they don’t smell worse.”

“Do you know why some of them are wrapped? Have you heard about any spells . . . “

“No. I don’t know anything about the cobwebs, either, but I have a strong suspicion that you’re going to be having some committee meetings about how to interpret the zoning laws.”

“What? What about the zoning laws?”

“Does industry include research is one question, I suspect.” Charles relaxed a little hearing that. “Then there’s the question of whether residential density requirements apply to zombies or whether they’re considered to be mechanisms.”

“Zombies? There’s no such thing as zombies!”

“If there are no such thing as zombies, that will simplify matters. Assuming, of course, that Mr. Asmundson is not doing research regarding the creation of zombies.”

“Let’s assume simplicity.”

“Yes. And let’s scan to see if there is a heavier magic flux than is allowed in an area zoned for light industry.”

“Yes. Let’s.” Charles patted his belly and looked around. Sums pulled a couple of metal dowsing rods out of her shoulder bag. She checked the handles.

“You don’t use the forked sort?”

“No. I triangulate better with the L-rods.” She turned in a circle, holding the short ends of the L shape of the rods in her outstretched hands. The long ends wavered over the tops of her fists, either tipping together or apart, as she turned. “The door is magical, but low energy. The bodies are, well, dead.”

“And zombies would show magic, yes?”

“I have no idea. So far as I know, there are no such thing as zombies. There’s a higher reading over there.”

“In those rooms?”

“Or on the other side.” Sums dropped her hands. “Let’s go check. You might want to call out. To keep from surprising anyone.”

Charles took a few deep breaths, gathered his authority, and raised his voice. “Hello, the building. I am Charles Lindwood from the Department of Permits. We are conducting a routine inspection.” Charles waited for a reply. Sums walked toward the rooms in the center. “Hello?”
Charles trotted to catch up. He was looking happier.

Comments on Fifth Beginning

In the first copy of the first section of the story mentioned in the Third Beginning (which is now titled Depress Button), I had the following written at the top of the first page.

shrink proof wrapping
depress button
no building permit
organ donation card
charged cards
marketing analyst

As sometimes happens, I ended up with several copies of the story in various stages of completeness on my work computer and home computer . . . mostly on my home computer. Am I the only person who emails myself stories and then adds a bit to them and then emails them back? Anyway, by the time I had spread them out in several different folders and then re-collected them to make an official version, I had fogotten what I had been planning to do with that list.

The depress button bit is obvious. The no building permit obviously mutated a bit. The rest, I'm not sure about. I'm pretty sure that our pair were intended to save themselves from the spider mage by explaining how he can shift his research to the magical equivalent of spam blockting. (1)Or at least that he can claim on paper that's what he's researching. That's the shrink proof wrapping and the marketing analysis. I'm less certain what the organ donation card and charged cards were supposed to represent, other than slight puns.

I've had one beta reader (BR) so far, and she described Sums as feisty. That's not a word that I would have used for a character who I see as a middle-aged accountant with a certain stubborn thoroughness and a dislike for having her time wasted. BR liked the story and that's encouraged me to keep going with it. But so far, that has taken the form of trying to discover different directions that the plot could go. There will be, as mentioned above, spiders. The spam blocker is supposed to fit into there somewhere.

There are two thoughts that keep recurring. One is that I need to know a lot more about spiders and about how magic works in this world. That's one thought. The other is that Charles is about to get treated very badly, and not by Sums. Also that Charles is . . . but that's enough spoilers for now.

(1) Yes, that's an actual spoiler if you're reading Depress Button as a story. I must also warn you that the story does not yet have and ending. Or a middle. Reading it as a story may not be a good idea at this point.

Fifth Beginning: Shrink Wrap

On a dusty brick shelf in a dusty brick alcove sat an oversized coat button and a three by five card with the words DEPRESS BUTTON written on it in neat block letters. Summermoon thought of it as an alcove, though she would not have objected if another person thought of it as a porch or an entryway. At least she would not have objected if there were a door at the end of it. Currently there was just the shelf with its two display items.

The button and card were lit from no discernable source, which wasn’t unexpected, since the alcove itself was much darker than the afternoon shadows would have made it, naturally, even five paces in. Typical decorator’s magic. Nothing to impress. Apparently Charles thought that the items on the shelf were of a higher order.

“You see. This is exactly your sort of thing. I’ve tried all of the usual methods of entry and nothing has worked. It’s almost a puzzle.”

Charles Lindwood rocked back on his heels, hands gently clasping the lapels of his morning coat. The coat was an affectation just a little short of costumery. In addition to the coat, his hair had been thinned and grayed for an appearance of added age and his easy movements made it obvious that his rounded belly was adding no actual weight to his frame. His use of cosmetic magic annoyed his guest on many levels, but his countenance annoyed her more. His round face was beaming with satisfaction.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you’ll find it interesting.”

“Oh, come now. You can’t let a thing like this just go.”

“No payment, no performance.”

Summermoon Dempsey, Sums for short, was, unlike the smiling man beside her, a person of actual, rather than faux middle age. She did not believe in cosmetic magics and currently had to decide whether one or two little medical procedures that her doctor was recommending were too close to cosmetic to accede to.

“Be reasonable.” His face was still looking smug and amused, chins tucked down to his chest. One day Sums would get annoyed enough to trace his actual age. “It would take weeks to set up a purchase order. The Council. . . “

“The Council has allowed your department the use of charge cards for purchases under a thousand.”

“Yes, well, perhaps after we’re inside there will be enough for you to do to justify an expense. . .”

“They also,” Sums cut him off, “allow you to request an emergency amendment to my professional services master contract.”

“This is hardly an emergency.” He began an avuncular chuckle, which cut off suddenly as the unpleasant thought sank in. “You have a master contract? But they take months to process.”
“You annoyed me last time. I warned you that you were annoying me and you persisted. If this isn’t an emergency, you can run an expedited amendment through the departments in three days, if you carry it.”

“You can’t hold me up for three days, this is urgent.”

“Either it’s an emergency and you can get the purchase order now, or it’s not and it can wait three days.”

Charles began tugging at the bottom of his vest.

“Perhaps after we’re in.”

“$500 to get in, on the card, and $5,000 minimum on the PO. You can begin by explaining the situation. The display of a button is not nearly enough introduction to a new project.”

$5,000!” Charles sputtered.

“At least. I’ve checked the going rates.”

“You don’t even have a certificate!”

“I don’t have a systems certificate. Fortunately, I’m listed as an auditor. I’m credentialed well enough for that.”

“Auditor? I don’t need a summary of energies expended. I need creative thinking.”

“You need to get into this building. You also need something else after you get in, but you’re not willing to tell me what. Very well. I’ll get you in. I may do whatever needs to be done once we’re inside. The main portion of my contract will be to provide you with an energy expenditure analysis for your files so that other inspectors and city engineers can refer to it in similar cases.”

“Very forward thinking of me.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, it will appear as if you contracted the analysis and then used the results to determine your course of action.”

She knew she had him there.

Charles tried looking at her in varying poses of incredulous distress and disappointment, but it impressed her as much as his sartorial magic did. Eventually his efforts collapsed like a badly shored trench in the rain. Which is to say, gradually and messily right up to the big final slump.

In the end, he admitted that this was a building inspection. The alcove they were standing in was located in the Transitional Area of the City, out beyond the suburbs. Low Density Residential uses were fine, as were Light Manufacturing, Distribution, and mixed Residential/Light Manufacturing. They had gotten an anonymous report that the building was being used as a High Density Residence, perhaps even as an illegal Hotel.

“Is there any reason that you can’t call them and demand that they open their doors for an inspection?”

“Well, you’ve heard about the recent spam attacks? With the person information extraction?”
Sums shuddered. “Yes. A nasty piece of spellware. Walk through one and suddenly you’re surrounded by garish advertising illusions. Everyone involved should be jailed or expelled.”
“Do you have the current dismissal filters?”

“I don’t have that sort of connection. I have a reversal amulet.”

“Surely that interferes with your communication?”

“It doesn’t seem to be stopping you.”

“But, dammit, I had to track you down and physically talk to you.”

“Yes.” Sums smiled contentedly.

Charles blustered a bit, but quickly deflated into, “Well, at least it won’t interfere with communications here. The owner, a Mr. Asmundson, has complained repeatedly about being the target of spam attacks. It has been an escalating item between him and the City. It’s not over, by any stretch of the imagination, but the most recent upshot was a notice sent to the City that he was installing a blocker, much like your amulet, but larger and more powerful.”

“So he can’t be contacted and he can say that it’s the City’s fault that they can’t contact him.”

“Essentially. With more recrimination, of course.”

“Any chance that the anonymous complaint came from someone in the City?”

“I certainly hope not. It came in from the access point at the Public Library.”

“Any chance of just waiting for him to make his next complaint?”

“Not with as many feathers as he’s ruffled. We can’t be seen to be paying back in inconvenience, but we can’t give special consideration to a complainer, either. That sort of thing would get around too quickly.”

“I can imagine.”

“And it doesn’t help that this whole building is so obviously sealed off. No doors. No windows.”

“Sure they’re not just hidden?”

“No. I had it scanned. There’s an access spell, here, but no door. No windows. There may be something on the roof, but nothing in the walls.”

“So. Either I depress the button, or there’s no inspection until the next time Mr. Asmundson comes out to complain.”

Charles signed elaborately. “All right. $500 on the card. An amendment to your contract for up to $5,000 if there is an analysis or written report required. I’ll have to do that back at the office and it will take at least a week.”

“No written work delivered without the amendment.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then.”

Sums turned and bent down to address the button.

“You call yourself a button? Look at you. You’re a disgrace! Scratched and faded! Do you think that anyone is ever going to look at you twice, let alone use you to hold two pieces of cloth together?”

Charles was confused, but before he could complain the light in the alcove began to dim. Something was happening.

“You might as well crawl into the nearest wastebasket now. You’re a cheap little bit of unmatched plastic! You’re too small to use as a hopscotch marker and too dull to use for decoration.”

The alcove was now completely dark. The street noises faded. Perhaps the other end had sealed off. It was too dark to tell.

“You can’t be recycled. You’d be nasty to burn. You’re just a waste of space.”

A dim light rose in the front of the alcove. The wall and shelf were gone. Ahead was a dim room. They stepped forward and let their eyes adjust. An unpleasant smell rose up through their nostrils and insinuated itself against the base of their brains.

As they were trying to pick out what sort of bad smell this was, they began to notice the bodies.