Editing Bound Fate (Warhammer High) (section)

===Trust – Sunday, Septembris 11, 297.M34===
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An hour later Idiam Thar was waiting, still standing in the same spot. The shotgun was slung and stubpistol holstered at his side, both ready to be drawn. He'd seen no movement here for an hour, and that disturbed Thar. 

He was waiting for the forensics squad and could picture it now, the airvans streaming in, masses of Verispex technicians pouring out. Neat, orderly barricades would be erected, bright portable fluorlights thrown up, a three block perimeter secured. More Patrolmen would show up, ensuring their presence in paperwork and documentation, but they would mill about uselessly. The Verispex would catalog the scene, take pictures, gather physical evidence, note the location and orientation of the body.

Thar looked at the body again, somehow so lonely in the middle of the empty road, like it was still alive. He felt an unfamiliar quirk in his gut. ''Sick.'' Whoever did this was sick, an abomination even among the dealers, scavvies and House gangers. Thar had never seen anything this bad, not the entire time he'd been in the Arbites.

''This is... insanity.'' Miranda nodded silently in agreement to his thought, seeming to float alongside Idiam in the Immaterium. She looked him over once again, feeling confusion, anger and sickness, a denial that something like this could happen. Most of all she felt helplessness, that this man was out of his depth here.

It had been late when Thar started the job, he was never one to shy away from the night shift, and as he waited the third shift at the soylens plant started. Vehicles stirred, mostly old, barely functioning airbuses, but Thar had already set up crime scene tape to prevent them from disturbing the area. Still, as a bus passed by and skirted around the impromptu blockade he felt something. A presence.

A tall, thin man in a black coat was standing on the corner, crisply outlined by the streetlamp overhead, one of the few in sight that worked continuously. His shadow seemed to stretch off to the left, merging with the blackness as if explaining how he'd appeared. Thar eyed the man, wondering. ''Suspect?'' He simply stood, calmly, under the light, hands clasped behind his back. ''No. Too calm.'' Thar returned to observing the shadows, the alleys, looking for anything that could explain what had happened, but let a hand wander to his gun, and kept an eye on the man.

Thar looked at the kid again, at the body. He was pale and surprisingly warm for a corpse, especially one sitting out as long as he had. ''Fifteen minutes too late.'' Thar sighed, and wished the precinct could afford to install cameras down here, deep in the lower hive. Too many people died or were robbed, and the perpetrator never found because a concerned neighbor's call came too late. The dead boy couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve, and his head was feverish when Thar had checked for signs of life.

The Patrolman glanced back up to see the man in black staring directly at him, still standing under the streetlamp. He looked back at the kid, eyes unable to avoid the sight. The body was drenched in sweat, and his eyes were so dilated and bloodshot one had simply burst, the globe rupturing and letting vitreous humor flow freely down his face. The boy's blood vessels were standing out even now, still rock hard, having drawn all the blood from the surrounding tissue. Bruising appeared in a spot on his arm, another on his neck and probably more around his body, veins and arteries alike bursting under tremendous pressure.

Idiam looked up at the man again, his posture and bearing exactly the same. But he was closer now, standing on the near corner, only a bare meter from the line of tape. Thar eyeballed the stranger and thumbed open the pistol holster, but the return stare was mild, even pleasant, and he turned back to the body once more.

The kid's tongue stuck out slightly, and was dry as a week-old piece of bread. It was thick, swollen and ripe-looking despite the dehydration, and seemed to crackle at the slightest disturbance. The boy had wet himself as he died and even through the dark pants Thar could tell it was the wrong color, brown and red.

''Like all the water was trying to leave his body.'' But the worst wasn't the ruptured eye, the turgid blood vessels, the profusion of sweat and urine, the too-thick blood leaking.

''The worst is his face.'' Miranda nodded again in agreement, gasping involuntarily as she looked at the body again. She felt something, an answer, even deliverance for Idiam Thar. While he turned to regard the child once more, Miranda felt something sure and confident approach. She traced a strand of fate and saw that, whatever was approaching, it would shape events, play a larger role than either she or Thar in the weeks to come. She turned to see it approach.

The little boy, not even thirteen, was wearing a massive, beaming grin. It was a look of complete delight, the happiness only a child could know, but perverted. The smile was magnified and distorted beyond all reason, as if the child had experienced a lifetime's worth of pleasure in only a few moments. The sweat beading his cheeks seemed almost to be tears of joy, of thanks. Idiam shuddered and stood once more, then felt something wrong with the silence. He turned to see the man in black only nine meters away, looking pointedly at the corpse.

“This is an official Arbites operation and you are in violation of Imperial Law. Charge – Felony trespassing on an Arbites Crime Scene; Verdict – Guilty; Sentence – Immediate detainment and interrogation.”

Thar drew the shotgun and produced his badge, stepping towards the man. He stopped some five meters away, more than enough distance for safety. “Any attempts to resist will be met with harsher sentencing. Imperial Justice Be Served.”

The man moved, far faster than Thar would have thought possible. He reached into the black coat and pulled out something.

Idiam brought the shotgun to firing position, ready to shoot the moment a weapon appeared. Instead a small, black leather square slid out. It fell open casually, easily, to reveal a badge, a golden double aquila. An Officio agent?

The man spoke, his voice quiet even in the utter stillness of the murdered night. It was soft, but precise, and somehow seemed to carry easily despite its hush tone.

“The shotgun will be quite unnecessary, Patrolman Thar.”

Idiam started at that. How does he know my name? Still, he recognized the badge's authority and stood at ease, one hand still on the pistol.

“Thank you. Now.” The man stepped forward comfortably and knelt over the boy. He brought his face down almost flush with the ruptured eye, the swollen tongue.

While the agent inspected the body, Thar looked him over. He looked young, too young for this. He had light brown hair, slightly waved, and strong, if generic facial features. His eyes were black, fading lightly towards the pupil to reveal a hint of brown ringing the center.

“He's been here for an hour and twenty minutes, perhaps thirty.” The hand slipped into his coat again and a pencil-sized piece of flat metal came out. It prodded at the tongue, pushed the thick, stiff protrusion, causing it to crackle and scrape against dry lips. A cloth appeared and wiped down the tool, then both disappeared to be exchanged for a pair of thin plas gloves. “I assume you haven't touched him yet?”

Thar nodded. “No, I haven't.”

“Excellent. He came from over there.” The kid pointed blindly to the west, where the barest outline of the school could be made out. It was the opposite direction he had come from.

“Alright, Agent...” Thar stopped, realized he didn't know the kid's name.

“Douglas Hanlon. I trust you'll keep that–as well as my presence here–between us.” Douglas patted his coat, the spot he'd pulled the Officio badge from earlier, and let a wide, friendly smile appear between his thin lips. “He purchased the Slide near the school, perhaps even within the confines of the schoolyard.”

“What makes you think that? He could've come from anywhere.”

“Well, he is a child.” The agent smiled, gloved hands tracing blood vessels, gently prodding bruised areas. He dabbed a bead of sweat, then rubbed it between his fingers and smelled it. A pair of tweezers appeared and Douglas slid over to the boy's ratty shoes, picking at the accumulated grime. A small rock, different from the masonry grit and rubble that lined the alleys, came free. 

“Ah, the covered side is still wet. Excellent.” He turned to display the small rock, gleaming with moisture in the low light. “The schoolyard is the only place containing pea gravel and an open, night-accessible public water source inside a ten-block radius, Patrolman.”  I suspect that with an overdose of Slide this large– ” Douglas pocketed the small fragment in a thick plas bag, then sniffed again, taking in the sweat, “uncut Slide, actually–he couldn't have made it much farther than that.” He stood and turned to face Idiam. “It must have been terrifying, to be so happy while he felt his own heart, eye and blood vessels rupture with tension.”

“He was taken before his time.” The agent stood and dusted off his knees, then peeled off the gloves and packed them back into his coat in yet another bag.

“Time, whose tooth gnaws against everything else, is powerless against truth.” The words came out smooth and sure.

Thar felt a chill run down his spine and looked down at the body again. Where before he was disgusted and shocked at the incomprehensibility of it, now he felt a familiar anger, a need for justice. ''The kid deserves better.'' Miranda nodded again, herself feeling a little better, relieved to find that illegal chems were behind this, instead of something far worse.

“I think I'll go inspect the corner of Septer and Carmine, Patrolman, and find some truth. Have a pleasant evening.”

Thar turned after a long moment, but the agent was out of sight. He heard the sounds then, the imminent arrival of Verispex airvans, and decided it better to keep his post.

Miranda saw the agent leave and made to follow him, sensing the story of this child's death was far from over, then felt herself stir, felt the world begin to fade around her. She tried to remember his name, but even that seemed beyond her now. All she felt before true sleep finally claimed her was Magnus' presence, a father's care, comforting and warm. Something the dead child would never feel.



“Yes, he came from the block school, number 113.” Verispex Jek had finally returned as the area was being swept one last time an hour later.

“How'd you find out?” Thar seemed a little agitated at this revelation, but not surprised, causing Jek to frown.

After a moment he smiled and pocketed his data slate. “The school's cleaning servitor recorded the victim talking to a man. Not enough to identify him, unfortunately, but enough detail to know the child purchased the substance and used it in the school yard.”

“Where'd he go? The man?”

“Ahh...” Jek brought up the data slate once more. “Looks like... he went north.”

“Towards Septer street?”

Another moment passed as Jek double-checked the area map. “Yes.”

Thar thought about the boy, what the agent said and was again happy he brought his overcoat.
''Something to keep the chill out.''