A Hard Rain Part 5

"What's the problem?" Bell asked, "besides me and the others being alive?"

Dix pointed to the other morgue van. "I'm guessing that the Undertaker and his gang, combined with some of Redblock's men, will be back with us as well."

Suddenly Bell became a full-scale detective again. He stood up straight, took a deep breath, and then glanced at the cop who had driven the van. "Keep the back of that truck locked!" Bell ordered, pointing at the one that had just arrived. "And where are our guns?"

"Storage locker right there," the driver managed to choke out, pointing inside the truck. He looked as if he might throw up at any moment.

Bell turned around to one of the cops who had been killed, who was now standing behind him. "Get inside the station and get us help out here. Quick!"

Then Bell pointed at the other two now revived cops, one who was still lying on the bunk. "Get our weapons out of the locker there. Hurry."

"What's the point?" one of them asked. "We shoot them, they just come back anyhow."

"Better than us being shot," Bell said, rubbing the spot on his chest where he had been hit. "Maybe the next time we don't get a second chance."

That got both men moving.

At that moment the third morgue truck pulled in, followed by a number of police cars, their flashing red lights off.

"Bell!" one of the cops said as he got out of his cruiser. "I thought you were dead."

"I was," Bell said. "No time to explain now, even if I knew what was happening. All the guys you shot in those two morgue trucks are alive as well."

"Not a chance," the cop said. "I kicked a couple of the bodies myself, just to make sure."

About ten cops were now standing, facing Bell and Dix. All of them nodded.

"Well," Detective Bell said, "I'm standing here, so you better figure the Undertaker and the rest will be alive as well."

Dixon Hill was impressed at how fast his friend took charge, even though he didn't really understand what had happened. Like any cop, he had seen his share of unbelievable things, and was just treating this like another. He'd figure it out later over drinks down at the corner bar. Probably a few dozen drinks.

The cold air and the swirling low fog overhead swallowed what little noise filled the streets. The cops just stared at their once-dead friend, not sure what to do, or what to believe.

Then someone banged something inside one of the morgue trucks. Someone who should have been dead.

Every cop had his gun in his hand instantly as they spread out facing the backs of the two morgue trucks holding the Undertaker and his goons.

At that moment a dozen more cops came pouring out of the front door of the police station, their guns drawn. They also took up positions behind the two morgue trucks. Bell ordered that a few of the cruisers should aim their front lights and spotlights at the back of the trucks, to blind whoever might be in there.

Finally, when it looked as if everyone was ready, and the lights were on, he motioned for one cop to open one door.

As the door swung open, it didn't surprise Dix to see the Undertaker standing there, shielding his eyes from the sudden bright light.

"Hands in the air!" Bell shouted. "Or we'll blow your heads off and make sure they don't get reattached."

Every man in the van shot his hands into the air, and ten minutes later the gangsters were all sitting in cells.

Even the Undertaker had to admit, being in jail was better than lying on a slab at the morgue.

Fourteen hours before the Heart of the Adjuster is swiped Captain's Log.

Engineer La Forge informs me that he thinks he has come up with a way to block enough of the subs.p.a.ce waves coming from the Blackness to safely restart the impulse drives for a short time. But there are problems involved. The device uses Auriferite, a goldlike substance we keep in small supply in our stores to help in the growth of different plants and the preservation of some alien plant types. For some reason, this substance, when broken down in the correct fashion, forms a subs.p.a.ce shield against the type of disturbance coming from the Blackness.

La Forge is convinced we have enough Auriferite to do the job, but only barely. His worry is that he may destroy our only supply if his device does not work correctly. He wants to be sure it will function exactly as he wants it to function. I have told him I agree. He will continue testing, while Mr. Data and the rest of the engineering staff look for other methods to extract us, including setting up a promising adjustment to the deflector screens.

Section Three: Wet, Spent, and Little to Show Grilling Joe "the Undertaker" Morgan was a hot and tiring job. Dixon Hill had long since taken his outer jacket and suitcoat off and loosened his tie. Sweat stained his shirt and he was constantly wiping beads of moisture off his forehead. And he wasn't even the one sitting under the hot light.

The Undertaker was a man far too skinny for his black suit. The guy's thinning hair was plastered to his head like strands of wet string and his mouth hung open like a dog's, clearly dry and needing water. He smelled of rotting teeth and embalming fluid, a smell that got worse the hotter he got.

For almost an hour Detective Bell and Dixon Hill had fired questions one after another, like a machine gun with unlimited ammunition. Hill was starting to think that the Undertaker knew nothing more than he claimed. He said he didn't know who had put the s.n.a.t.c.h on Cyrus Redblock and killed his men. He hadn't known about it until an hour after it happened.

And worse news to Hill, the Undertaker claimed he had never heard of a gizmo called the Adjuster, or a small gold ball called the Heart. And just like with who s.n.a.t.c.hed Redblock, the Undertaker claimed he had no idea who might have the Heart.

Finally, after Bell had repeated the same question for the tenth time, and the heat of the overhead light had drained the last sweat from the thin Undertaker's body, he seemed to break.

"Okay, look," the Undertaker managed to say, his voice croaking from lack of water, "I give you a name who might know and you leave me alone?"

"Maybe," Bell said, his face inches from the Undertaker's nose.

"Ghost Johnson," the Undertaker said. His head dropped forward, as if just saying the name had cost him his last energy.

Bell stepped back and glanced over at Dixon Hill.

Dix had never heard of a Ghost Johnson, but it was clear that Bell had. And he didn't like the sound of the name.

"You sure about Ghost Johnson?" Bell asked the Undertaker.

The guy only nodded his head.

The questioning went on for another half hour, with Bell and Hill getting less and less from the thin man. Finally, when it became clear they were getting nowhere, Detective Bell wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve and banged on the door for the cop outside to come in. "Take him to his cell. Hose him down first."

A big man with a shiny badge entered and walked up to the prisoner, towering over him like a parent over a small child.

"Hey, you can't hold me," the Undertaker complained as the cop roughly hauled him out of the chair under the bright light. "I ain't done nothin'."

"Killin' cops is a lot more than nothin'," Bell said, the disgust in his voice clear and very hard.

"I don't see no bodies," the Undertaker said, suddenly having more energy than he had had for the past hour. "Seems you is walkin' around just fine."

Bell laughed. "No thanks to you and your men. You're goin' away so we have one less piece of trash cloggin' the gutter." Bell nodded to the big cop. "Get him outa here."

The Undertaker tried to twist out of the grasp of the cop, but his thin frame was easy to control for the big man. The cop slammed the Undertaker into the wall beside the door, then said, "Oh, excuse me."

Bell and the big cop both laughed as the big man yanked the thin Undertaker out of the room.

Bell flipped off the hot interrogation light and turned on the room's regular light. Hill slipped on his suit coat and straightened his tie as the temperature of the small room dropped, the heat flowing out the door and into the cooler front area of the station house.

Hill was glad they had at least gotten another lead. From what the Undertaker had said, if he was to be believed, it was doubtful Hill's people had found anything in their searches of Redblock's headquarters and the Undertaker's building. And right now, with time ticking away, any lead was better than nothing.

"So where do I find this Ghost Johnson?" Hill asked.

"You don't," Bell said, slipping on his suit jacket and then tossing Hill his raincoat.

"I got no choice, my friend," Hill said, standing in Bell's way.

"This Heart gizmo is that important, is it?" Bell asked, staring into Hill's eyes.

"More than I could ever explain," Hill said.

"Not much of an answer for a friend," Bell said.

"About all I can say," Hill said. "Except that I can tell you that it concerns what helped bring you back to life."

Bell looked stunned. "You mean whoever controls this gizmo has the power of who lives and who dies?"

"In a manner of speaking," Dix said, "yes." He didn't want to try to explain to his friend that the life of the entire city depended on finding the Heart of the Adjuster. No point in getting into all that and just confusing the issue.

Bell pushed past Hill and stepped into the front area of the police station. It felt like walking into a cooler on a hot summer day. Hill saw that Mr. Data and Mr. Carter were both there, waiting.

Hill put on his raincoat and adjusted the collar as he moved over to Mr. Data. "Any luck?"

"The search of the Undertaker's headquarters was interrupted by the police," Mr. Data said. "The Heart of the Adjuster was not found in Redblock's headquarters."

Bell glanced at Hill. "Doin' a lot of takin' the law into your own hands, Dix."

"Figured you were busy, so I'd have my people do the legwork while we grilled the Undertaker."

Bell laughed. "Yeah, right."

"So where do we find this Ghost Johnson?" Hill asked.

"Ghost Johnson?" Mr. Data asked, looking first at Hill, then at Detective Bell.

"He's the only name the Undertaker gave us," Hill said.

"I don't think taking on Ghost Johnson would be a bright idea," Bell said.

"As Dr. Trevis Tarrant observed," Mr. Data said, "'When there is only one possibility, it can't be wrong.' "

Hill glanced at Mr. Data. Clearly he had read every mystery he could find. And could now quote the detectives from those books with ease.

Detective Bell just laughed. "I suppose you might be right. But understand that with Redblock out of the way, this city is at war. There are goin' to be dozens of people tryin' to take over Redblock's spot as crime boss. Benny the Banger, Harvey Upstairs Benton, Slippery Stan Hand. And the worst of the bunch by far is Ghost Johnson."

"And the most likely to have put the s.n.a.t.c.h on Redblock?" Dix asked.

Bell shrugged. "Redblock and Ghost hated each other, but they stayed in their own areas and respected each other's turf. But somethin' might have changed to make him put the move on Redblock?"

"Something like the Heart of the Adjuster?" Hill asked, staring at Detective Bell.

Bell nodded slowly. "All right, we go, but we do this my way."

"And how is that?" Dix asked. They couldn't afford the time to go through official channels for anything.

"You just let me worry about that," Bell said. "But we go in just the two of us."

Dix patted his old friend Detective Bell on the back. "I'm glad you're still alive and with us, my friend."

Bell laughed. "No more than I am."

Twelve hours before the Heart of the Adjuster is pinched Captain's Log.

I have ordered all nonessential areas of the ship to be shut down due to the recent emergency. For twelve minutes and eight seconds, all ship's environmental controls were off-line. No crew were injured or in any immediate danger, but the failure clearly ill.u.s.trates the gravity of our situation.

Chief Engineer La Forge has asked permission to use a fraction of the available Auriferite to create a blocking barrier around the main environmental controls, to keep them working. He does not believe that such use would jeopardize the possibility of starting the impulse drives.

I agreed and he has just informed me the Auriferite blocking device is in position and blocking most of the effects of the Blackness. But not all of them. That is not a good sign in my opinion, but La Forge does not seem concerned.

When we return to base, I will ask La Forge to submit detailed information as to his discovery of the subs.p.a.ce properties of Auriferite. The long-term implications of such a simple discovery may have a lasting impact on science and the defense capabilities of the Federation.

However, first things first. We must escape this trap we have stumbled into.

Mr. Data, on a second area of research, is about to test a device he has called the Adjuster, which compensates for the subs.p.a.ce disturbances, which he theorizes will allow the impulse drives to function at a low enough level to stop us and back us away from the Blackness. His test is scheduled in thirty minutes.

Section Four: There's a Light ...

By the time Dixon Hill, Detective Bell, and the others had reached the side street that led out to Ghost Johnson's headquarters, the fog had lifted and the cold had eased. Now the sky was clear and the stars were out, shining like dandruff on a black suit. Only a few fast-moving clouds slid by overhead, lit by the lights from the city.

Dixon Hill could never have imagined things changing so fast. There was an old saying about the weather in the city by the bay. If you didn't like it, wait five minutes and it would change.

Dix hated old sayings like that, and he had heard that same saying about every part of the world. But sometimes those old sayings applied, and tonight, in this city, was one of those times. Dix still hated the saying, accurate or not.

On top of that, this night seemed to be lasting far longer than normal. It was as if daylight didn't exist in this town. Or even time, for that matter. With the way reality was being bent, that was not only possible, but likely. It made Dix feel like he had stumbled into a carnival fun house, where the mirrors distorted your location, the wind whipped at clothing, and the path to the exit was far from clear.

Until Dixon Hill found the Heart of the Adjuster, it seemed he was stuck in a fun house night of changing weather, shifting reality, and perpetual darkness.

The side street that lead to Ghost Johnson's headquarters started out looking a great deal like the street the Undertaker's headquarters had been on. Three-story stone buildings lined both sides, and the windows were dark, making them look empty and dead. The sidewalks framed a narrow street that moved up a slight hill. But when they crossed over the crest of that hill, it became clear the road led out of the city, through some thick trees.

Mr. Data was driving the Dodge, a skill he had mastered during one of Dix's earlier cases. Dix was in the pa.s.senger seat, with Detective Bell and the Luscious Bev in the back. Mr. Data flawlessly sped the car down the road as it suddenly turned from pavement to dirt.

"Don't you think you should slow down some?" Bev asked, leaning forward and grasping onto the back of the seat as the car bounced through a pothole. Mr. Data corrected a slide to the right, going even faster.

Dix had been thinking the very same thing.

Mr. Data laughed in his hard-guy voice. "Toots, as Inspector French once said, 'If we were all as wise as we should be, we would have no stories to tell.' "

"That may be true, Mr. Data," Dix said, grasping the dashboard as Mr. Data slid the Dodge through another corner and then corrected. "But lives depend on us, and we need to reach our destination in one piece."

Mr. Data nodded and slowed the car, just as they broke out of the trees and into the open.