What Shadows Lie
Chapter 6: Discoveries
By: Chris Ward
January 25- 26, 2007
Waiting in the airport lobby, Tru and Ray kept an eye on the incoming flights. For a
change, everything was running smoothly. At 10 they were holding the handwritten
sign, to let Professor Suresh know who he was meeting, and watching the
disembarking passengers. After another 10 or 5 minutes of waiting, one spotted them
and headed their way.
With a dark complexion, and a mop of curly black hair, he wore a cream suit and a tan
overcoat, and carried a well used messenger bag. His distinct accent identified him as
the man Tru had spoken with on the phone. Extending his hand, he introduced himself.
“Hello. I’m Mohinder Suresh. And you are Ms. Gertrude Ransome?”
With a smile, she took the proffered hand. “Please call me Tru, Professor.”
Answering her smile with one of his own, he shrugged. “I shall. And I prefer
Mohinder; Professor is a title I mostly reserve for my teaching and lectures.” Turning,
he offered his hand to Ray. “And you would be her partner?”
Taking the hand, Ray grinned slightly at the implied question. “We’re detectives with
the LAPD Major Case Squad. They partnered us up a couple years ago now. I’m Radulf
Taylor, but you can call me Ray.”
“All right. Now, if you will assist me with my bags, we can go somewhere private and
begin.”
Several hours later, having taken only a brief break for lunch, he was running yet
another in a series of tests using her blood. Head down over his microscope, he had
been asking a steady stream of questions. Finally he leaned back and rubbed the
bridge of his nose. “The mutation is definitely present. How long since you noticed
your manifestation?”
“Umm… Must’ve been the fourteenth, I think?” Glancing at Ray for confirmation, she
asked, “Wasn’t that when we caught Sullivan?” When he nodded, she thought for a
second. “Guess that’d make it about eleven days now.”
“And what was the nature of your manifestation?”
Shrugging, she walked him through the events of that night. When she reached the
part concerning her accidental teleportation he sat back in stunned amazement.
“Fascinating.” Looking thoughtfully at Ray, he tapped his pen lightly on the notepad
beside him. “You hinted you believed yourself to have an ability as well. Could you
explain?”
Carefully avoiding the sexual nature of the dream, he described Rita’s revelations to
him, as well as her seeming presence at the cemetary. When he finished, Mohinder
thumbed through a series of files in his bag. With a satisfied nod, he pulled a couple
out and reached for a clean syringe. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll test your blood for the
mutation. If, as I suspect, it’s present, I’d like to run some tests with both samples.”
After another hour, he cleared his throat. “The mutation is definitely present in your
sample, Ray.” Setting aside the slide he had been looking at, he took out a new one
and placed more of Tru’s sample on it. Getting the settings he wanted, he spent
several minutes looking at the sample and taking some notes. Picking up the syringe
containing Ray’s sample, he placed a small amount on the slide beside Tru’s, and
peered through the microscope for several more minutes.
Swearing under his breath in Hindi, he pulled away from the microscope after
another 10 or 15 minutes. Putting on a fresh slide, he powered up his laptop and
opened a program. Connecting the microscope to the computer, he placed a little more
of Tru’s sample on the slide, and adjusted the settings again. Turning back to the
computer, he spent a couple more minutes verifying that everything was running the
way he wanted, then turned back to the microscope and placed a small amount of Ray’s
sample on the slide as well.
After another quarter hour of tense silence, he relaxed in his chair and
contemplated the monitor in shock. Finally he put on his reading glasses and glanced
down at his notes. “Well, let’s start with the easy one.” Looking at Ray, he smiled
slightly. “You definitely have what my father labeled the Special Genome. Based on
your description, I believe your particular ability to be Non-Corporeal Communication.”
Blinking in confusion, Ray scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry? What was that?”
“Essentially, to coin a rather trite phrase, you speak to dead people. This particular
manifestation is one I’m not particularly comfortable with because, although it is quite
real, it seems almost to border on the supernatural.”
“But, I’m not going crazy.”
Laughing warmly, Mohinder shook his head reassuringly. “Certainly not. My father’s
research indicates that, in those rare instances where this ability has manifested,
there was a close relationship between the deceased and what my father terms the
Special. There is also the possibility that it involves Precognition, since his research
indicates that some of the deceased revealed information the Special could not have
known, including some limited foresight.”
Tru leaned forward eagerly. “And mine?”
Turning back to his computer, Mohinder said, “Unlike Ray, your ability is entirely
physical and mental, and completely explainable scientifically. However, it is no less
extraordinary.” Pulling up the file he wanted, he waved them both over. “On the left is
your sample, Tru. And Ray’s is on the right. Now watch; at this point, note the changes
both undergo at virtually the same instant.”
After several minutes, Tru glanced at Ray and shrugged in puzzlement. Ray looked
back at the computer. “Could you tell us what we just saw, Mohinder?”
“Certainly. Hold on a moment.” Restarting the sequence, he focused on Tru’s
sample. “At this point, Tru’s DNA is at rest; doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
Now, note the sudden activity when I place Ray’s sample on the slide. That initial burst
of activity appears to be her Genome noting the presence of Ray’s. At this point, her
Genome is, essentially, resequencing her DNA.” Catching their expressions, he smiled
lightly. “Think of it as installing new software on a computer. It doesn’t delete old
information, but the programming has to be altered slightly to allow use of the new
software. That is, basically, what Tru’s DNA is doing here. In and of itself, that would not
have been entirely unique. I have already encountered another such person, with the
ability of Empathic Mimicry, who does much the same thing.”
Shifting the focus to Ray’s sample, he began to speak excitedly. “What makes Tru’s
ability so fascinating is what happens here. At this point you’ll note that Ray’s sample is
completely at rest. This is when Tru’s genome is copying the information in Ray’s DNA.
However, note the alteration that begins… now. This sequence shows something I
have never seen. It would appear that Tru’s genome is literally rewriting the DNA in Ray’
s sample. Unlike the previous rewrite, in which her genomic mutation caused her DNA
to be rewritten, encoding the newly acquired ability into her system, this one seems
aimed exclusively at removing the information. And, as of now, the sample has been
completely rewritten, with all traces of the Special Genome removed. It’s as if the
ability encoded in Ray’s sample never even existed.”
Turning to face them, his face held a wry grin. “There’s a certain irony at work here,
Tru. You are a Los Angeles Major Case detective, and your manifestation amounts to a
theft; specifically, Special Genomic Copying And Deletion.” Taking a moment to back
out of the program, he closed down the computer and began to clean his work space
on the table. “I did notice that there were a couple sequences which had already been
similarly added to your DNA. I assume one of them is the teleportation you talked about
earlier. What can you tell me about the other sequence?”
Once she had described the events surrounding the capture of Devnet Cormac, as
well as what had happened the previous night, he started thumbing through more
files. “There are a couple possibilities I can think of offhand, although there are
probably dozens more I am unaware of.” Scratching at his chin thoughtfully, he asked,
“You said it was dim in the vault and mostly dark in your room?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I would like to conduct a bit of an experiment.” Standing, he closed the shades and
turned off most of the kitchen lights. After doing so, he flashed a comforting smile.
“What I would like for you to do is hold you hands in front of you.” When she extended
them, he said, “Now, concentrate on making a weapon of some sort appear there.”
Frowning, she closed her eyes and concentrated. After several minutes the sweat
drenched her face as she poured herself into the task. A few minutes later she felt a
warm glow suffuse her body as a portion of her mind crafted the weapon. Opening her
eyes, she watched as a black shadow seemed to coalesce around her clenched fist,
crafting a knife that gloved the hand and wrist.
With one finger, Mohinder lightly touched the ebony blade, wincing when he
received a small cut. “Amazing.” Taking a few notes while holding the offended digit in
his mouth, he set down his pen and muttered, “I wonder…”
Glancing back at Tru, he nodded. “You can go ahead and get rid of the knife.”
Watching as it seemed to dissipate, almost like sugar in water, he blinked in awe.
“Spectacular. Now, from what you described I suspect there is a portation aspect to
this ability. Moreover, I believe what happened to you was your mind attempting to
come to terms with this ability. Essentially, it opened the entrance but failed, as they
say, to have an exit strategy. Since you had nowhere definite set as your exit, you
emerged in a mostly random location.
“What I would like for you to do now is concentrate on opening an entry portal
directly beside you, with the clear intent to exit on the kitchen side of the door.”
Ray interrupted quickly. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Perhaps; but not as dangerous as failing to have control of her abilities could well
prove.”
Standing up, Tru shrugged. “All right, let’s do this.” Staring at the floor in front of
her, she concentrated on trying to open the portal, keeping in mind where she wanted
to come out. After several minutes, just as she was about to give up, a shadowy spot
appeared beside her and began to grow. Once it had reached a size where she could
fit, it stopped. Moving cautiously, she stepped into it.
Almost as soon as she disappeared into the inky pool, she fell out of another that
had appeared in the door. Picking herself up from the floor, she mumbled, “Shit.”
Watching her closely, Mohinder raised an amused eyebrow. “Do you think you can
teleport back to where you were originally standing?”
Nodding, she straightened up. “I can try, I guess.” Closing her eyes, she slowed her
breathing and concentrated on being There instead of Here. Before she realized what
was happening, Ray was using his good arm to guide her into the chair. Opening her
eyes, she realized she had crossed the kitchen. Wearily taking the water Ray offered,
she glanced at Mohinder. “Did I…?”
“Yes.”
“Why am I so weak and tired right now?”
Scratching the back of his neck thoughtfully, he shrugged. “I’m not entirely certain.
At a guess, I’d suggest it has something to do with using your mind in ways you are
unaccustomed to. Similar, at least in theory, to beginning a new exercise regimen. The
more frequently you use these abilities, and any you may yet acquire, the easier and
less exhausting that use will become.”
Glancing at the clock, he began to put his papers and equipment away. “I mentioned
a couple possibilities for your most recently obtained ability. It is possible, perhaps
even likely, that the possibilities are related, even identical. The first, more fanciful,
term is Umbrakinesis; and that is the one you’ll find in my father’s book. It is the literal
manipulation of shadow to achieve a variety of effects, including a variant of
teleportation, concealment and defense. Here are persistent legends of great wizards
or shamans capable of somehow fitting themselves into their shadow and traveling
great distances, or using it to hide and spy. There are even legends and myths about
people who armed and armored themselves in shadow to fight.”
Frowning in thought, Ray asked, “Is that even possible? I mean, unless my teachers
were all wrong, a shadow is simply what appears when you block light. Isn’t it?”
Nodding, Mohinder smiled briefly. “And therein lies the problem with Umbrakinesis.
I, personally, believe the term to be a fanciful misnomer for what is actually Dark Matter
Manipulation. Unlike shadow, dark matter is physical and measurable; it is a presence,
not an absence. There is research indicating it can be manipulated by mechanical
means.”
Standing up, Ray took the case containing Mohinder’s equipment. “I don’t know
about you two, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t you let us take you to dinner,
Mohinder? It’s the least we can do after what you’ve done for us today. We can talk
more over dinner.”
A little later, over a comfortable meal, Mohinder looked around quickly, and then
leaned forward. Keeping his voice low, he said, “There are a few things I need to warn
you about. The first thing regards your ability, Tru. As I mentioned, I met an Empathic
Mimic last year and learned that his ability, while making him potentially one of the
most powerful men on earth, came with a significant Achilles’ heel. Taking on too many
abilities at once placed him in a coma for two weeks. After waking up, but before
having a chance to fully assimilate the abilities that had caused the coma, he
encountered another highly unstable ability, and almost immediately came into contact
with a new group of abilities. The mix proved too powerful for him and, despite his best
efforts, he ended up exploding.” Seeing the fear in her eyes, he took a quick drink and
smiled reassuringly. “In all honesty, I have to admit his ability worked quite differently
from your own. Your ability seems to require a conscious decision, or Ray would no
longer have his own. The Empath I was talking about didn’t have that option. His ability
was always on, immediately copying all abilities it came across. Also, he had manifested
only a short time prior to the initial influx of abilities, and did not yet understand what
was happening. You now have a much better grasp of what is going on then he did. I
only brought that point up to caution you against becoming greedy.”
Pausing for a minute, he took another drink and brought them both in with his gaze.
“This brings up another point, and it concerns the both of you. There is a man who
murders others who have manifested in order to obtain their abilities. He goes by the
name Sylar.” At Tru’s startled gasp, he raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard the name?”
Nodding, she said, “I was the first investigator on-scene for the Walker homicides
last year; maybe 10 ten minutes later that Feds yanked the damn case. I heard Matt
mention the name once.”
“Officer Parkman?”
Blinking in surprise, she stared at him for a minute. “You know him?”
Laughing, he leaned back in his chair. “Absolutely. He’s adopted the Walker girl,
Molly. While he tries to get his NYPD Detective shield, he’s sharing an apartment with
me.”
“I’m glad he’s giving it another try. He was a good cop, and a better man than that
fuck-slut of a wife, Janice, deserved.”
With a gentle smile, he nodded. “Perhaps. I suspect he’d argue that point.”
“Of course he would. Which actually proves the point. Hell, that bitch didn’t even
wait for him to be released from the Intensive Care Unit before telling him not to waste
time coming home.”
“You cared for him?”
“Yes. He’s a good man, and a great friend.”
As they finished their dinners, Mohinder set his napkin on his plate. “One thing I
forgot to mention earlier; there is a group you need to be wary of. They have no name,
and few people know they even exist. They abduct and study those who manifest
abilities. They also offer a brutal choice to those they find useful; join or die. They also
kill anyone who gets in their way, as well as those they deem most dangerous.”
Looking at him skeptically, Ray put money down for the tip and stood to go. Sorry,
Professor, you’re starting to lose me here. Seriously; a secret organization?”
With an understanding look in his eyes, Mohinder also prepared to leave. “Believe
me; you have no idea how hard it was for me to accept their existence.” Glancing to
where Tru was pulling on her coat, he asked, “Remember when Matt dropped out of
sight for a couple days, shortly after the Walker murders?” When she nodded, he
explained. “They grabbed him. He doesn’t remember anything that happened, because
they have someone capable of erasing memories, but he woke on his sofa with a pair
of tracking marks.”
Stopping what she was doing, Tru stared at him. “Matt’s got a power too?”
“A form of telepathy, actually. From what he’s said, he literally hears people’s
thoughts.” He watched in confusion as her expression rapidly went from puzzled to
amused. When she started to laugh, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
Catching her breath, she shook her head. “Not at all. Something finally made sense
is all.” Looking at Ray, she asked, “Remember when Matt, apparently unprovoked, tried
to beat McHenry to death? How much you want to bet it wasn’t as unprovoked as
everyone thought?”
During the drive to Mohinder’s motel, Tru glanced in the mirror at him. “What can
you tell me about this group?”
“Unfortunately, very little. I had hoped Linderman’s death would stop them, but they
seem to be larger than I had realized.”
Ray jerked his head around quickly. “Did you just say Linderman was a part of this?”
“Yes. From what I’ve been able to learn, he seems to have been one of the primary
figures. Why?”
Staring out the window in blank confusion, he scratched at his injured arm.
“Because we just ran across his name in a case. Do the names Petrelli, Deveaux or
Bishop mean anything to you?”
“Not really. I know a Petrelli, of course. Peter was the Empath I was telling you about.
And Simone Deveaux ran an art gallery in New York before vanishing. That’s all I really
know about any of the names. Why?”
Shrugging in frustration, Tru pulled into the motel. “Because, somehow, those four
names are tied together.”
**************
The phone was ringing off the hook, waking Tru from a deep sleep. Glancing groggily
at her clock, she swore as she slapped around for the phone. “Whoever you are, you’
re fucking dead!”
The Captain’s voice came over the line. “Ransome?”
“Sir?”
“Get your ass showered and dressed. Taylor’s on his way over now. We’ve got a
situation right up your alley.”
When the line went dead, she glanced back at her clock as she sat up. “5:30 in the
damned morning? Fuck!”
She had just finished her shower when Ray knocked on the door. Slipping into her
robe, she grinned mischievously as a thought struck her. Closing her eyes and
concentrating, she teleported to the door and opened it before teleporting back to her
room. 5 minutes later she concentrated again and stepped into the portal that
appeared, emerging in her living room. As chance had it, Ray had just relaxed into the
recliner, facing away from her. With a sudden grin, she walked up behind him. “Well,
this could come in handy.”
Jerking to his feet, he spun toward the sound. “Christ, Tru!”
“Ready to go?”
“Shit! What the hell’s the big idea? Nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Shrugging, she headed out the door. “The professor said I should practice. That’s
what I’m doing.”
Following her to the car, he shook his head helplessly. “Warn me next time, will
you?”
On the road, she threw a questioning glance at her partner. “Captain give you any
ideas about why we’re going in on our day off?”
“Just that he has something big down at the station.”
When they arrived, they were quickly ushered into the largest of the briefing rooms.
The Captain sat at the table beside Tris and several members of the Crime Scene Unit,
including Bobbi, the supervisor. They all seemed to be pouring over a case, along with
Buzz from Anti Crime and a pair of first year Major Case detectives. Glancing up when
the door opened, the Captain slumped in relief. “Thank God. Get your asses over here;
maybe you can make sense of this shit.”
Sitting down with matching expressions of confusion, they looked at each other
briefly. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Tru asked the question. “What’s going on?”
“Damned if I can figure it out. Buzz?”
The huge Australian stood from where he had been lounging with a cup of coffee.
“Right. We got a tip, maybe 12, 16 hours ago now. Seems the 13th Streeters were fixing
to move enough dope and merch through that warehouse of theirs to triple ops nearly
overnight. According to the tip, they were having a regular flea market for all things
illegal. The information was the kind of stuff that would’ve made ol’ Elliot Ness cream
his pants.
“Anyway, we show up when and where and pull off the perfect raid. It couldn’t have
gone smoother if we had set it up for training. This thing went like clockwork. There
were just a couple small problems.”
Before he could continue, Tru cleared her throat. “Let me guess; no money, the best
and most mobile of the merchandise was gone, and there were some bodies lying
around?”
With a shocked grin, he nodded. “And Pretty Lady gets the prize.”
Putting a restraining hand on her arm, Ray tightly shook his head. “Bad idea, Buzz.
Calling her Pretty Lady is a good way to make her decide God was a little overly
generous in allowing you to breed.”
With a quick shrug, he glanced back at Tru. “Sorry. How’d you guess?”
“Didn’t really have to. You brought it to MC. That means something went wrong in a
big way. You’ve got Tris in on this, which tells me there’s at least one body. Those two,
together, tell me whoever did the killing also took something when they left. A large
group of strangers would have been noticed, even in that area, and you wouldn’t need
us. That means there were probably no more than four, six at the outside, in on it. That
means the money would have been grabbed, since it’s light, and the most readily
mobile of the highest value merchandise as well.”
With an appreciative nod, Buzz leaned against the wall. “Not bad. There’s just a small
snag. We don’t have just one or two bodies. The 13th had five bosses, about a dozen
lieutenants, and roughly a hundred soldiers. Every damned one of them was there; and
the entire roster got whacked.”
“Shit on a stick!” Leaning forward, Ray’s face turned white with horror. “What the
fuck happened?”
“Dunno. That’s why we’re all here.” Sitting back down, he turned to face the Medical
Examiner. “Tris?”
Opening her eyes reluctantly, she straightened up. “I’ve got bodies stacked three
deep, every cutter I’ve got is working overtime, and we’ve still got better than seventy
bodies left.”
Ray flashed a puzzled grin. “Doesn’t it take a couple hours to do an autopsy?”
“And this is why we’ve yet to do a complete one. It’s been nothing but cut and dash.”
Pulling out a small evidence bag, she signed it and tossed it to Ray. “Been finding
variations of that in every body.”
Signing the bag, Ray slipped on the pair of latex gloves Bobbi tossed over and took
out the evidence. “Holy God!” ‘That’ was a small bit of metal, bent and cracked. Enough
markings remained for it to be recognizable as an American quarter. The force with
which it had entered the body was plainly evident, as was something else. “What the…
This has been heat-warped. Are those friction burns?”
Bobbi opened the file in front of her. “Yep. Not a fucking clue how it happened, but
every last one of them shows similar trace. They entered the body with the same force
I’d expect from a high caliber bullet.”
“Christ! How the hell’s that possible?”
“Not a clue. That’s part of what we’re trying to figure out.”
Tru glanced at the other detectives. “This is all very interesting. I’m still not sure why
the two of us are here. They may be new, but Dave and Shannon are perfectly capable
detectives. Surely this is their case?”
Shrugging, the red haired Shannon stifled a yawn. “Sorry. Anyway, thanks but this
actually looks to be your case.”
Narrowing her eyes, Tru asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We traced the number the tip came from. The shock was it belonged to a cell
phone, and the call didn’t originate from anywhere near 13th territory.”
“And?”
“The number was registered to Angus Sullivan.”
Chapter 6: Discoveries
By: Chris Ward
January 25- 26, 2007
Waiting in the airport lobby, Tru and Ray kept an eye on the incoming flights. For a
change, everything was running smoothly. At 10 they were holding the handwritten
sign, to let Professor Suresh know who he was meeting, and watching the
disembarking passengers. After another 10 or 5 minutes of waiting, one spotted them
and headed their way.
With a dark complexion, and a mop of curly black hair, he wore a cream suit and a tan
overcoat, and carried a well used messenger bag. His distinct accent identified him as
the man Tru had spoken with on the phone. Extending his hand, he introduced himself.
“Hello. I’m Mohinder Suresh. And you are Ms. Gertrude Ransome?”
With a smile, she took the proffered hand. “Please call me Tru, Professor.”
Answering her smile with one of his own, he shrugged. “I shall. And I prefer
Mohinder; Professor is a title I mostly reserve for my teaching and lectures.” Turning,
he offered his hand to Ray. “And you would be her partner?”
Taking the hand, Ray grinned slightly at the implied question. “We’re detectives with
the LAPD Major Case Squad. They partnered us up a couple years ago now. I’m Radulf
Taylor, but you can call me Ray.”
“All right. Now, if you will assist me with my bags, we can go somewhere private and
begin.”
Several hours later, having taken only a brief break for lunch, he was running yet
another in a series of tests using her blood. Head down over his microscope, he had
been asking a steady stream of questions. Finally he leaned back and rubbed the
bridge of his nose. “The mutation is definitely present. How long since you noticed
your manifestation?”
“Umm… Must’ve been the fourteenth, I think?” Glancing at Ray for confirmation, she
asked, “Wasn’t that when we caught Sullivan?” When he nodded, she thought for a
second. “Guess that’d make it about eleven days now.”
“And what was the nature of your manifestation?”
Shrugging, she walked him through the events of that night. When she reached the
part concerning her accidental teleportation he sat back in stunned amazement.
“Fascinating.” Looking thoughtfully at Ray, he tapped his pen lightly on the notepad
beside him. “You hinted you believed yourself to have an ability as well. Could you
explain?”
Carefully avoiding the sexual nature of the dream, he described Rita’s revelations to
him, as well as her seeming presence at the cemetary. When he finished, Mohinder
thumbed through a series of files in his bag. With a satisfied nod, he pulled a couple
out and reached for a clean syringe. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll test your blood for the
mutation. If, as I suspect, it’s present, I’d like to run some tests with both samples.”
After another hour, he cleared his throat. “The mutation is definitely present in your
sample, Ray.” Setting aside the slide he had been looking at, he took out a new one
and placed more of Tru’s sample on it. Getting the settings he wanted, he spent
several minutes looking at the sample and taking some notes. Picking up the syringe
containing Ray’s sample, he placed a small amount on the slide beside Tru’s, and
peered through the microscope for several more minutes.
Swearing under his breath in Hindi, he pulled away from the microscope after
another 10 or 15 minutes. Putting on a fresh slide, he powered up his laptop and
opened a program. Connecting the microscope to the computer, he placed a little more
of Tru’s sample on the slide, and adjusted the settings again. Turning back to the
computer, he spent a couple more minutes verifying that everything was running the
way he wanted, then turned back to the microscope and placed a small amount of Ray’s
sample on the slide as well.
After another quarter hour of tense silence, he relaxed in his chair and
contemplated the monitor in shock. Finally he put on his reading glasses and glanced
down at his notes. “Well, let’s start with the easy one.” Looking at Ray, he smiled
slightly. “You definitely have what my father labeled the Special Genome. Based on
your description, I believe your particular ability to be Non-Corporeal Communication.”
Blinking in confusion, Ray scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry? What was that?”
“Essentially, to coin a rather trite phrase, you speak to dead people. This particular
manifestation is one I’m not particularly comfortable with because, although it is quite
real, it seems almost to border on the supernatural.”
“But, I’m not going crazy.”
Laughing warmly, Mohinder shook his head reassuringly. “Certainly not. My father’s
research indicates that, in those rare instances where this ability has manifested,
there was a close relationship between the deceased and what my father terms the
Special. There is also the possibility that it involves Precognition, since his research
indicates that some of the deceased revealed information the Special could not have
known, including some limited foresight.”
Tru leaned forward eagerly. “And mine?”
Turning back to his computer, Mohinder said, “Unlike Ray, your ability is entirely
physical and mental, and completely explainable scientifically. However, it is no less
extraordinary.” Pulling up the file he wanted, he waved them both over. “On the left is
your sample, Tru. And Ray’s is on the right. Now watch; at this point, note the changes
both undergo at virtually the same instant.”
After several minutes, Tru glanced at Ray and shrugged in puzzlement. Ray looked
back at the computer. “Could you tell us what we just saw, Mohinder?”
“Certainly. Hold on a moment.” Restarting the sequence, he focused on Tru’s
sample. “At this point, Tru’s DNA is at rest; doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
Now, note the sudden activity when I place Ray’s sample on the slide. That initial burst
of activity appears to be her Genome noting the presence of Ray’s. At this point, her
Genome is, essentially, resequencing her DNA.” Catching their expressions, he smiled
lightly. “Think of it as installing new software on a computer. It doesn’t delete old
information, but the programming has to be altered slightly to allow use of the new
software. That is, basically, what Tru’s DNA is doing here. In and of itself, that would not
have been entirely unique. I have already encountered another such person, with the
ability of Empathic Mimicry, who does much the same thing.”
Shifting the focus to Ray’s sample, he began to speak excitedly. “What makes Tru’s
ability so fascinating is what happens here. At this point you’ll note that Ray’s sample is
completely at rest. This is when Tru’s genome is copying the information in Ray’s DNA.
However, note the alteration that begins… now. This sequence shows something I
have never seen. It would appear that Tru’s genome is literally rewriting the DNA in Ray’
s sample. Unlike the previous rewrite, in which her genomic mutation caused her DNA
to be rewritten, encoding the newly acquired ability into her system, this one seems
aimed exclusively at removing the information. And, as of now, the sample has been
completely rewritten, with all traces of the Special Genome removed. It’s as if the
ability encoded in Ray’s sample never even existed.”
Turning to face them, his face held a wry grin. “There’s a certain irony at work here,
Tru. You are a Los Angeles Major Case detective, and your manifestation amounts to a
theft; specifically, Special Genomic Copying And Deletion.” Taking a moment to back
out of the program, he closed down the computer and began to clean his work space
on the table. “I did notice that there were a couple sequences which had already been
similarly added to your DNA. I assume one of them is the teleportation you talked about
earlier. What can you tell me about the other sequence?”
Once she had described the events surrounding the capture of Devnet Cormac, as
well as what had happened the previous night, he started thumbing through more
files. “There are a couple possibilities I can think of offhand, although there are
probably dozens more I am unaware of.” Scratching at his chin thoughtfully, he asked,
“You said it was dim in the vault and mostly dark in your room?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I would like to conduct a bit of an experiment.” Standing, he closed the shades and
turned off most of the kitchen lights. After doing so, he flashed a comforting smile.
“What I would like for you to do is hold you hands in front of you.” When she extended
them, he said, “Now, concentrate on making a weapon of some sort appear there.”
Frowning, she closed her eyes and concentrated. After several minutes the sweat
drenched her face as she poured herself into the task. A few minutes later she felt a
warm glow suffuse her body as a portion of her mind crafted the weapon. Opening her
eyes, she watched as a black shadow seemed to coalesce around her clenched fist,
crafting a knife that gloved the hand and wrist.
With one finger, Mohinder lightly touched the ebony blade, wincing when he
received a small cut. “Amazing.” Taking a few notes while holding the offended digit in
his mouth, he set down his pen and muttered, “I wonder…”
Glancing back at Tru, he nodded. “You can go ahead and get rid of the knife.”
Watching as it seemed to dissipate, almost like sugar in water, he blinked in awe.
“Spectacular. Now, from what you described I suspect there is a portation aspect to
this ability. Moreover, I believe what happened to you was your mind attempting to
come to terms with this ability. Essentially, it opened the entrance but failed, as they
say, to have an exit strategy. Since you had nowhere definite set as your exit, you
emerged in a mostly random location.
“What I would like for you to do now is concentrate on opening an entry portal
directly beside you, with the clear intent to exit on the kitchen side of the door.”
Ray interrupted quickly. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Perhaps; but not as dangerous as failing to have control of her abilities could well
prove.”
Standing up, Tru shrugged. “All right, let’s do this.” Staring at the floor in front of
her, she concentrated on trying to open the portal, keeping in mind where she wanted
to come out. After several minutes, just as she was about to give up, a shadowy spot
appeared beside her and began to grow. Once it had reached a size where she could
fit, it stopped. Moving cautiously, she stepped into it.
Almost as soon as she disappeared into the inky pool, she fell out of another that
had appeared in the door. Picking herself up from the floor, she mumbled, “Shit.”
Watching her closely, Mohinder raised an amused eyebrow. “Do you think you can
teleport back to where you were originally standing?”
Nodding, she straightened up. “I can try, I guess.” Closing her eyes, she slowed her
breathing and concentrated on being There instead of Here. Before she realized what
was happening, Ray was using his good arm to guide her into the chair. Opening her
eyes, she realized she had crossed the kitchen. Wearily taking the water Ray offered,
she glanced at Mohinder. “Did I…?”
“Yes.”
“Why am I so weak and tired right now?”
Scratching the back of his neck thoughtfully, he shrugged. “I’m not entirely certain.
At a guess, I’d suggest it has something to do with using your mind in ways you are
unaccustomed to. Similar, at least in theory, to beginning a new exercise regimen. The
more frequently you use these abilities, and any you may yet acquire, the easier and
less exhausting that use will become.”
Glancing at the clock, he began to put his papers and equipment away. “I mentioned
a couple possibilities for your most recently obtained ability. It is possible, perhaps
even likely, that the possibilities are related, even identical. The first, more fanciful,
term is Umbrakinesis; and that is the one you’ll find in my father’s book. It is the literal
manipulation of shadow to achieve a variety of effects, including a variant of
teleportation, concealment and defense. Here are persistent legends of great wizards
or shamans capable of somehow fitting themselves into their shadow and traveling
great distances, or using it to hide and spy. There are even legends and myths about
people who armed and armored themselves in shadow to fight.”
Frowning in thought, Ray asked, “Is that even possible? I mean, unless my teachers
were all wrong, a shadow is simply what appears when you block light. Isn’t it?”
Nodding, Mohinder smiled briefly. “And therein lies the problem with Umbrakinesis.
I, personally, believe the term to be a fanciful misnomer for what is actually Dark Matter
Manipulation. Unlike shadow, dark matter is physical and measurable; it is a presence,
not an absence. There is research indicating it can be manipulated by mechanical
means.”
Standing up, Ray took the case containing Mohinder’s equipment. “I don’t know
about you two, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t you let us take you to dinner,
Mohinder? It’s the least we can do after what you’ve done for us today. We can talk
more over dinner.”
A little later, over a comfortable meal, Mohinder looked around quickly, and then
leaned forward. Keeping his voice low, he said, “There are a few things I need to warn
you about. The first thing regards your ability, Tru. As I mentioned, I met an Empathic
Mimic last year and learned that his ability, while making him potentially one of the
most powerful men on earth, came with a significant Achilles’ heel. Taking on too many
abilities at once placed him in a coma for two weeks. After waking up, but before
having a chance to fully assimilate the abilities that had caused the coma, he
encountered another highly unstable ability, and almost immediately came into contact
with a new group of abilities. The mix proved too powerful for him and, despite his best
efforts, he ended up exploding.” Seeing the fear in her eyes, he took a quick drink and
smiled reassuringly. “In all honesty, I have to admit his ability worked quite differently
from your own. Your ability seems to require a conscious decision, or Ray would no
longer have his own. The Empath I was talking about didn’t have that option. His ability
was always on, immediately copying all abilities it came across. Also, he had manifested
only a short time prior to the initial influx of abilities, and did not yet understand what
was happening. You now have a much better grasp of what is going on then he did. I
only brought that point up to caution you against becoming greedy.”
Pausing for a minute, he took another drink and brought them both in with his gaze.
“This brings up another point, and it concerns the both of you. There is a man who
murders others who have manifested in order to obtain their abilities. He goes by the
name Sylar.” At Tru’s startled gasp, he raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard the name?”
Nodding, she said, “I was the first investigator on-scene for the Walker homicides
last year; maybe 10 ten minutes later that Feds yanked the damn case. I heard Matt
mention the name once.”
“Officer Parkman?”
Blinking in surprise, she stared at him for a minute. “You know him?”
Laughing, he leaned back in his chair. “Absolutely. He’s adopted the Walker girl,
Molly. While he tries to get his NYPD Detective shield, he’s sharing an apartment with
me.”
“I’m glad he’s giving it another try. He was a good cop, and a better man than that
fuck-slut of a wife, Janice, deserved.”
With a gentle smile, he nodded. “Perhaps. I suspect he’d argue that point.”
“Of course he would. Which actually proves the point. Hell, that bitch didn’t even
wait for him to be released from the Intensive Care Unit before telling him not to waste
time coming home.”
“You cared for him?”
“Yes. He’s a good man, and a great friend.”
As they finished their dinners, Mohinder set his napkin on his plate. “One thing I
forgot to mention earlier; there is a group you need to be wary of. They have no name,
and few people know they even exist. They abduct and study those who manifest
abilities. They also offer a brutal choice to those they find useful; join or die. They also
kill anyone who gets in their way, as well as those they deem most dangerous.”
Looking at him skeptically, Ray put money down for the tip and stood to go. Sorry,
Professor, you’re starting to lose me here. Seriously; a secret organization?”
With an understanding look in his eyes, Mohinder also prepared to leave. “Believe
me; you have no idea how hard it was for me to accept their existence.” Glancing to
where Tru was pulling on her coat, he asked, “Remember when Matt dropped out of
sight for a couple days, shortly after the Walker murders?” When she nodded, he
explained. “They grabbed him. He doesn’t remember anything that happened, because
they have someone capable of erasing memories, but he woke on his sofa with a pair
of tracking marks.”
Stopping what she was doing, Tru stared at him. “Matt’s got a power too?”
“A form of telepathy, actually. From what he’s said, he literally hears people’s
thoughts.” He watched in confusion as her expression rapidly went from puzzled to
amused. When she started to laugh, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
Catching her breath, she shook her head. “Not at all. Something finally made sense
is all.” Looking at Ray, she asked, “Remember when Matt, apparently unprovoked, tried
to beat McHenry to death? How much you want to bet it wasn’t as unprovoked as
everyone thought?”
During the drive to Mohinder’s motel, Tru glanced in the mirror at him. “What can
you tell me about this group?”
“Unfortunately, very little. I had hoped Linderman’s death would stop them, but they
seem to be larger than I had realized.”
Ray jerked his head around quickly. “Did you just say Linderman was a part of this?”
“Yes. From what I’ve been able to learn, he seems to have been one of the primary
figures. Why?”
Staring out the window in blank confusion, he scratched at his injured arm.
“Because we just ran across his name in a case. Do the names Petrelli, Deveaux or
Bishop mean anything to you?”
“Not really. I know a Petrelli, of course. Peter was the Empath I was telling you about.
And Simone Deveaux ran an art gallery in New York before vanishing. That’s all I really
know about any of the names. Why?”
Shrugging in frustration, Tru pulled into the motel. “Because, somehow, those four
names are tied together.”
**************
The phone was ringing off the hook, waking Tru from a deep sleep. Glancing groggily
at her clock, she swore as she slapped around for the phone. “Whoever you are, you’
re fucking dead!”
The Captain’s voice came over the line. “Ransome?”
“Sir?”
“Get your ass showered and dressed. Taylor’s on his way over now. We’ve got a
situation right up your alley.”
When the line went dead, she glanced back at her clock as she sat up. “5:30 in the
damned morning? Fuck!”
She had just finished her shower when Ray knocked on the door. Slipping into her
robe, she grinned mischievously as a thought struck her. Closing her eyes and
concentrating, she teleported to the door and opened it before teleporting back to her
room. 5 minutes later she concentrated again and stepped into the portal that
appeared, emerging in her living room. As chance had it, Ray had just relaxed into the
recliner, facing away from her. With a sudden grin, she walked up behind him. “Well,
this could come in handy.”
Jerking to his feet, he spun toward the sound. “Christ, Tru!”
“Ready to go?”
“Shit! What the hell’s the big idea? Nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Shrugging, she headed out the door. “The professor said I should practice. That’s
what I’m doing.”
Following her to the car, he shook his head helplessly. “Warn me next time, will
you?”
On the road, she threw a questioning glance at her partner. “Captain give you any
ideas about why we’re going in on our day off?”
“Just that he has something big down at the station.”
When they arrived, they were quickly ushered into the largest of the briefing rooms.
The Captain sat at the table beside Tris and several members of the Crime Scene Unit,
including Bobbi, the supervisor. They all seemed to be pouring over a case, along with
Buzz from Anti Crime and a pair of first year Major Case detectives. Glancing up when
the door opened, the Captain slumped in relief. “Thank God. Get your asses over here;
maybe you can make sense of this shit.”
Sitting down with matching expressions of confusion, they looked at each other
briefly. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Tru asked the question. “What’s going on?”
“Damned if I can figure it out. Buzz?”
The huge Australian stood from where he had been lounging with a cup of coffee.
“Right. We got a tip, maybe 12, 16 hours ago now. Seems the 13th Streeters were fixing
to move enough dope and merch through that warehouse of theirs to triple ops nearly
overnight. According to the tip, they were having a regular flea market for all things
illegal. The information was the kind of stuff that would’ve made ol’ Elliot Ness cream
his pants.
“Anyway, we show up when and where and pull off the perfect raid. It couldn’t have
gone smoother if we had set it up for training. This thing went like clockwork. There
were just a couple small problems.”
Before he could continue, Tru cleared her throat. “Let me guess; no money, the best
and most mobile of the merchandise was gone, and there were some bodies lying
around?”
With a shocked grin, he nodded. “And Pretty Lady gets the prize.”
Putting a restraining hand on her arm, Ray tightly shook his head. “Bad idea, Buzz.
Calling her Pretty Lady is a good way to make her decide God was a little overly
generous in allowing you to breed.”
With a quick shrug, he glanced back at Tru. “Sorry. How’d you guess?”
“Didn’t really have to. You brought it to MC. That means something went wrong in a
big way. You’ve got Tris in on this, which tells me there’s at least one body. Those two,
together, tell me whoever did the killing also took something when they left. A large
group of strangers would have been noticed, even in that area, and you wouldn’t need
us. That means there were probably no more than four, six at the outside, in on it. That
means the money would have been grabbed, since it’s light, and the most readily
mobile of the highest value merchandise as well.”
With an appreciative nod, Buzz leaned against the wall. “Not bad. There’s just a small
snag. We don’t have just one or two bodies. The 13th had five bosses, about a dozen
lieutenants, and roughly a hundred soldiers. Every damned one of them was there; and
the entire roster got whacked.”
“Shit on a stick!” Leaning forward, Ray’s face turned white with horror. “What the
fuck happened?”
“Dunno. That’s why we’re all here.” Sitting back down, he turned to face the Medical
Examiner. “Tris?”
Opening her eyes reluctantly, she straightened up. “I’ve got bodies stacked three
deep, every cutter I’ve got is working overtime, and we’ve still got better than seventy
bodies left.”
Ray flashed a puzzled grin. “Doesn’t it take a couple hours to do an autopsy?”
“And this is why we’ve yet to do a complete one. It’s been nothing but cut and dash.”
Pulling out a small evidence bag, she signed it and tossed it to Ray. “Been finding
variations of that in every body.”
Signing the bag, Ray slipped on the pair of latex gloves Bobbi tossed over and took
out the evidence. “Holy God!” ‘That’ was a small bit of metal, bent and cracked. Enough
markings remained for it to be recognizable as an American quarter. The force with
which it had entered the body was plainly evident, as was something else. “What the…
This has been heat-warped. Are those friction burns?”
Bobbi opened the file in front of her. “Yep. Not a fucking clue how it happened, but
every last one of them shows similar trace. They entered the body with the same force
I’d expect from a high caliber bullet.”
“Christ! How the hell’s that possible?”
“Not a clue. That’s part of what we’re trying to figure out.”
Tru glanced at the other detectives. “This is all very interesting. I’m still not sure why
the two of us are here. They may be new, but Dave and Shannon are perfectly capable
detectives. Surely this is their case?”
Shrugging, the red haired Shannon stifled a yawn. “Sorry. Anyway, thanks but this
actually looks to be your case.”
Narrowing her eyes, Tru asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We traced the number the tip came from. The shock was it belonged to a cell
phone, and the call didn’t originate from anywhere near 13th territory.”
“And?”
“The number was registered to Angus Sullivan.”