The Toy-Maker's Dilemma

[Karl the Mad]

"So you should try and answer the questions I brought up," Katherine prodded. "For whom or what are the sacrifices being made, and what do the killers think they stand to gain?"

The selkie's phone rang, and the lawyer went quiet so she could talk to the house spirit.

[IamLEAM1983]

Three gave Katherine a quick look, enough to non-verbally suggest he was thinking on it. He shrugged a few moments later and pulled out his photograph of the design that had surrounded Phyllis Laidlaw's chair.

"This, whatever this is, is our recipient. A big, grinning skull made out of cogs and gears. I'm fresh out of any pop quiz knowledge about the local Freemason lodges, but... An anti-tech group? A pro-tech one? The Freemasons call their guiding principle the Great Architect, so... What?"

Drake pouted in thought. As to why, I have no clue. I'd suggest racism or some kind of horribly deviant Transhumanist group, but your guess is as good as mine."

***

Bagley relayed Tam's findings to Aislinn. "Prudence advises me to suggest you refrain from visiting the Mertown address, miss McConmara, but this remains one of our few tangible leads. Master Archibald would require me to ask the utmost level of care from you."

***

Spector nodded. "Sir Percy? Mister Benson?"

The gruff didn't need to be told twice, however indirectly. "Naturally, milord. It was mine intention to journey forth with her," he said, giving Benson a look. "I would be honoured if one of the Bugs were to accompany us."

That made Benson scoff. "Way to break a guy's arm, your Grace. Of course I'll come."

Spector gave the trio a look. "It seems to me like you have your group, miss McConmara."

***

Flynt was like most other Paradise expatriates, in that he didn't know what damn species he was from, neither had his parents or his parents' parents. The most anyone had ever bothered to supply him with, upon arriving on Earth, was a quick confirmation of his required protein type. Consequently, the only way to justifiably sum up the Sin Bin's proprietor was by saying that he felt like a cross between a hyena and a lizard.

For now, the proprietor said nothing, apparently glad to let Ciaran pretend to browse his stock for a few minutes.

[TennyoCeres84]

Neasa surveyed the group and nodded. "Off we go then."

***

"Right, Bagley. I'll just tell Three and Starr what you told me; we'll stay here at the precinct," she answered.

***

Ciaran had casually entered the store and casually look at the various DVDs Flynt had displayed on the walls. After a few minutes, he glanced back at the Drifter. "Got some questions you might be able to help with."

[IamLEAM1983]

The Drifter looked up from a little black tablet - probably some sort of news app - and gave Ciaran a fairly eloquent look. "We've all got questions, mate," he said, articulating his words in something that felt a bit like Canberra's accent by way of an airlock or two located a few light-years away. He'd picked up English from one of the Terran off-world syndicates, then.

He gave the selkie a liquid smile. "Like You got any Blueskins or, uh, Your girls any good, right?"

He winked and gave his muzzle a toss in the direction of a door in the back. "It's all right this way, if you're interested. Strap-ons, crops, canes, browns, blacks, reds, blues, whites... Otherwise, it's two bucks per DVD and ten per mag. Naw, I don't take credit chits."

Bucky leaned in a little, from outside. "Ask him if he's got any Clank-specific material."

Flynt's eyes briefly widened in fake surprise. "Oh. We've got ourselves a Hanzer, eh? Lookin' to oil a loose socket?
- I'm all good," laconically replied Shamus. "Talk to my friend, here. Can't step in, myself."

Flynt took his eyes back to Ciaran. "We've got the latest issues for Popular Mechanics: Swimsuit Edition. Why?"

***

Three pondered Aislinn's transferred information. "Right. So we're someone else's Ben Kenobi... I was about to suggest we try and reach Archie to suggest him to take a look, but sending him alone would be pretty reckless."

He lifted his eyebrows and sighed. "I figure we keep doing our shit and wait until we can regroup. Going at it collectively would be much safer."

The soldier then gave Katherine a slight frown. "As much as I don't mind you helping us with the investigative process, I'm not too keen on asking a lawyer to tag along for what could turn out to be a hectic confrontation. The most I'd be willing to offer is to get you set up with audio equipment in one of our vans, so you can at least listen in until we're absolutely sure it'll be safe to bring you in. The last thing I want is Aldergard docking our pay because you got winged."

***

Spector might have claimed he was afraid, but this didn't seem to prevent him from tagging along out of Evergloam's most convenient access point to Mertown.

They emerged into Mac Loch turf from a service entrance on the side of the local elementary school gymnasium, Evergloam's daily activities bleeding away into the auditive spectrum of a game of dodgeball briefly pausing. People had long since gotten used to seeing people phase into being right in front of doors only to open them and step through; it was a normal occurrence wherever a Gate was known to exist. As soon as the door closed and they found themselves standing on the recess yard's asphalt, they'd hear the game resume as if nothing had happened.

Stepping out of the yard through the attending softball diamond, they were treated to one of the signature sights of Mertown: people staring. No matter how entirely incorporated into Hope the community happened to be, this didn't change the fact that some less-than-charitable folks called the place Innsmouth Lite. If you weren't a water-based theriomorph of some kind, a fisherman or of Scottish descent, you were from "the city". Nevermind that you could see Canal Avenue's boardwalk right across the bridge, apparently.

On a practical level, the bridge was retractable solely for the purposes of letting bigger watercraft pass through the canal between Green Island and Mertown. A lot of locals liked to casually threaten to raise the bridge and keep it raised, though, whenever city policies were deemed to infringe a bit too much on the local roane and water dragon populations' habits. Thankfully, these threats were largely from grumbling old codgers who'd had one pint too many at the local watering hole.

Then again, "grumbling old codger" seemed to describe about two thirds of Mertown's population. The Mac Loch were old, insular and stubborn gits whose only halfway-decent representative was Seamus Mac Loch. As for the selkies, you had to contend with the locked-in Icelandic and Norwegian immigrants from two centuries prior or with what the locals called the "water gypsies", despite the little flotilla of houseboats acting very much like any other city neighbourhood.

[TennyoCeres84]

"We're looking for any Clank toys meant for tweaking, standard or otherwise," Ciaran informed.

***

Neasa scoffed lightly to herself at the sight of the locals staring. Same old, same old, she thought, proceeding toward the bridge. She ventured across the bridge with her companions and studied the various shop's addresses from the information on the card.

[Karl the Mad]

Katherine gave Three an arch and vaguely insulted look. "I survived the Vietnam Era, Mister Drake," she insisted haughtily, "and Mister Kuhn has seen fit to ensure I am... not unprepared for unpleasantness. Some little hovel in Mertown won't hold a candle to what I've endured, believe you me." The man's suggestion was plainly insulting to the lawyer, this much was obvious.

[IamLEAM1983]

Three, on the other hand, didn't hide that he thought her response a bit forced, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. Vietnam had mind-screwing Steampunk whatsits pushing Clanks into unsafe sex for some occult purpose. Vietnam was a regular boogaloo of witchery and unexplained weirdness, sure."

He shook his head. "Fine. Fine. I'll get a gun in your hands, but remember why Shield was put together for a second. We don't know what's motivating all this. Lucky Door Number One says it's a serial killer we can subdue, Lucky Door Number Two says it's a cult we'll have to suppress, Lucky Door Number Three says it's a red herring and we'll find one babbling idiot with a Christ complex. Or it could be we'll find nothing. The point is, we might not even get to negotiate. You saw Saigon, I saw fucking Kabul and you sure haven't fucking seen Najeeban!"

Drake then forced himself into a sigh to calm down. "Provide cover fire if you absolutely have to, but don't stick your neck out there, okay? I don't know about Aislinn, but you're my meal ticket if your boss is the one who's holding the purse strings. I'd like to keep my meal ticket in one piece."

[TennyoCeres84]

OOC: Don't forget to reply for the others.

BIC: Aislinn sighed at the pair. "Okay, you both have had shitty pasts and you both know how to dish it out. Three, I'm sure Starr knows the risk she's taking by going with us, whether she ends up having to cover our asses or not. And stop referring to her as a meal ticket; we'll worry about our paychecks later. I want to get to the bottom of this and take out whoever's behind killing these people. It reminds me too much of nightmarish bedtime stories!"

[Karl the Mad]

"Well said, Miss McConmara," Katherine replied with a slight smirk. "Rest assured, both of you; I am no stranger to strange goings-on. Let us handle this business with due caution."

[IamLEAM1983]

A few moments later, one of the station's mail clerks approached Katherine and handed her a printed form that had been filled by computer.

"These are the results for the tooth, miss Starr," the young man said. "If you can call them results."

As far as she'd be able to tell, the genetic analysis had hit a sizable snag...

SUBJECT: PRESUMED MALE, RECOGNIZABLE CHROMOSOMES MISSING
AGE: TELOMERE COUNT IRREGULAR. CONCLUSIVE ESTIMATE IMPOSSIBLE
SPECIES: NO KNOWN MATCH. .5% HUMAN .3% ANTHROPOMORPH. DATA ANOMALOUS
MUNDANE/SUPERNATURAL: UNKNOWN
MUNDANE/PRACTITIONER: UNKNOWN

NOTE: UNKNOWN ANTIBODIES DETECTED IN BLOOD SAMPLE FROM GUMLINE FRAGMENT.
ESTIMATED CAUSE: PATHOLOGICAL CONDITION IN LINE WITH KIDNEY FAILURE
OTHER ANTIBODIES UNACCOUNTED FOR. GENERALIZED CANCER SUSPECTED
CELL STRUCTURE IS 100% ANOMALOUS

INVOLVEMENT OF SPECIAL RESPONSE TEAM AND ARCANE BIOLOGISTS IS STRONGLY SUGGESTED.

Three lifted his eyebrows at that. "Damn. Our boy really isn't from around here, then..."

***

Flynt gave Ciaran a look, smirked, and then looked to Bucky's poking head. "Are you two...?
- Shut up," replied Bucky in a vaguely annoyed tone. "Answer the guy's question."

The Drifter sighed. "I've got a few things. Tame stuff, alright? Stud rings, disposable penile attachments - I've been caught selling unsafe stuff before and it's landed me in enough financial trouble as it is. I have to work with the two or three attachments the FDA's approved, everything else is off-limits."

Bucky shook his head. "No good. We're not looking for the tame stuff, man.
- Well, I can't supply you," replied the lizard uneasily.

Wallace rolled his eyes. "You lyin' sack o' shit... You're dealing, we've got the word from Weasel Biggs himself!"

Flynt seemed nervous, now. "Well, he heard wrong. I'm not. Not anymore.
- Ha, like he's gonna appreciate learnin' he got mislead by a two-timer like you!"

That seemed to intensify Flynt's anxiety. "Wait. I thought you guys were Shield. I mean-"

Shamus opted to keep bluffing. "We are. We might make some cash on the side, though, you know? Ask a couple questions, bust a few kneecaps...
- So you two...? You...?" began the alien, his face growing whiter by the second. "Oh, shite!"

If he'd been able to grin, Bucky probably would have. It was better not to confirm or deny the store owner's suspicions until they were done and fear had made him blab.

"Okay, start by tellin' us who's got you scared, Godzilla. It sure as shit ain't Weasel."

***

Only one store matched, and it indeed was a simple clothier. It wasn't located more than a stone's throw away from one of the grudgingly tolerated black market establishments in town, Frank's, and it looked to offer the kind of conservative cuts that the man in Tam's video footage from the toy store would have perhaps appreciated.

Spector had them stop right across from the front door, thoughtfully extending his own veil to include his colleagues of the day. "Let's not run down the door all at once. For all we know, this place is actually run by someone and actually produces suits. In which case, we wouldn't want to terrify them."

The White King spent a few seconds looking down on himself, then at Benson, followed by Neasa.

"How would you feel about browsing their prices for a new power suit?" he asked her. "You'd take the front door, I'd leave mister Benson crouched under the front baywindow and within easy reach, while Sir Percy and I secure the rear of the building. If nothing happens, I'll gladly cover your expenses. If you spot something suspicious, ask the salesperson if they don't have something for taller men. I'll hear it and come running."

***

His stint at the Psychiatric ward having been fairly fruitless, Archie left Hope General, his cane clicking along with his thoughts as he made his way back to his car.

This had all the marks of a cult, and of a cult's doing. A century ago, he'd found himself evolving in a world that was absolutely nuts for anything remotely spiritual in nature, to the point where gentlemen's clubs had started slapping esoteric requirements and indoctrination processes onto their innermost circles, all for the privileges of accessing the best cigars and drinking the best brandy. The Bullingdons, the Pitt Club and the Speculative Society hadn't ever sunk to nefarious ends as a means of procuring cheap thrills for their blazé members, but he'd been in America long enough to hear of Skull and Bones, amongst other groups, and of how hermetic and even ominous they could be.

It was a tale as old as time. Special people enjoyed to be comforted in their nature as special individuals, so they gathered together and erected signs and customs to keep others out. You started as a boy with your No Girls Allowed placards stuck on a tree house's door, and ended as a man in a "distinguished" society that focused on the refined art of exchanging platitudes with other like-minded members of the one percent. This was a ritual Archie had affected several times before in order to maintain his standing in Victorian times, but it wasn't something he'd ever taken much pleasure in. It felt juvenile to him. He'd always preferred open salons or simple outings at a restaurant.

Still, he hadn't been in Hope in the seventeen-hundreds, not having been born to begin with. He hadn't seen the Bucks and Greenes and Meers shape the city. He hadn't seen the local elite surface. Consequently, there were several cliques he didn't know much about, even if he'd been in Hope for the better part of two hundred years.

There still was someone who might be able to supplement his own knowledge in this area, however. In fact, there were two people.

He stopped in front of his car and dialed for the Harp and Blackthorn, while mentally calculating his best route from here to Centennial Park.