Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties by authors_sort Page B

some—”
    “Best if you don’t think about all those hours right now. Think about how you’re going
     to condense what you know about the prototype so you don’t drown me in explanations.”
     She paused on the other side of the doorway. David and one of his squad had taken
     up positions there. She checked her phone. No bars. She put the phone back and pulled
     out her flashlight. “Looks like I’ll have to head up out of this ditch your place
     is in to use my phone.” She glanced at David. “You’ll keep the scene secured until
     my CSI people get here?”
    He nodded. “I checked with Pete. Until further notice, I’m under your orders.”
    “Good. That includes keeping Cullen out.” She started for the trail she’d come down
     a few minutes ago. “Cullen?”
    “No one put me under your goddamn orders,” he grumbled, but he followed. He even brought
     the mage light with him.
    It provided plenty of light, so she flicked her flashlight off and stuck it back in
     her purse. “So what’s the side effect that makes the prototype not ready for prime
     time?”
    “It can create persistent, temporally displaced illusions in nulls.”
    “Temporally displaced…unpack that for me.”
    He shrugged. “Memories. Vivid, hallucinogenicmemories of shit that never happened. Usually shit that couldn’t have happened, like
     flying rats in goggles and aviator jackets.”
    “Flying rats.”
    “With wings. Dressed up like World War I pilots.” He sighed. “That one came from the
     VP in charge of development. The really weird part was how little it bothered him.
     He clearly remembered seeing those rats flapping along beside the plane when he flew
     in that morning—he’d had a window seat—but the memory didn’t strike him as odd. After
     we talked things out, he agreed that there couldn’t really be any flying rats, so
     it had to be a hallucinatory memory, but he seemed to think I was making a lot of
     fuss about something pretty trivial. So did the other two.”
    “The other two?”
    “I did the demo for four execs from T-Corp. Three of them were nulls, not a whiff
     of magic to ’em. One was a practicing Wiccan—Air Gift, not strong, but well trained.
     The Gifted guy didn’t experience any hallucinogenic memories. The three nulls did.
     The fabricated memories all involved events that really occurred on that day between
     seven and four hours prior to the demo.”
    “If they didn’t recognize the, uh, fabricated memories as bizarre, how did you find
     out about them? No, wait—I want to know that and a bunch of other things, like what
     the prototype looks like. But I need to call the CSI team first.” She reached for
     the phone in her jacket pocket. “Do you have a photo of it?’
    “No photo.”
    “What does it—”
    “I’m afraid you can’t call CSI,” Rule said from the shadows partway up the slope.
    She frowned at him. “Sure I can. If I don’t have any bars here I’ll head up the hill.”
    “Isen forbids it. That means less to you than to the rest of us, but this isn’t a
     Unit matter. No magic was used in the crime.”
    Her first reaction was to call it in anyway. Rule waswrong; MCD could only investigate felonies committed using magic, but she was Unit.
     She could investigate anything connected with magic, including the theft of a magical
     object. But if he wanted to, Isen could make investigation impossible. If their Rho
     told them to, every lupus at Clanhome would insist there had been no explosion, no
     intruder, and nothing was missing. Every damn one of them, including Cullen.
    Including Rule.
    “Cullen,” she said, her voice tight, “how about you go burn something while I chat
     with Rule?”
    “Oh, stop and think, Lily,” Cullen said crossly as he brushed past her. “It’s obvious
     why Isen doesn’t want outsiders involved.”
    Not to her, it wasn’t. “Well?” she said to Rule.
    He sighed. “How did the thief know where to find the