looking bored all the time. She promised to find something unappealing for him to pretend to sell and have it overnighted to the apartment.
"So I looked up places of power," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. So it turns out you were right. They're places where cosmic energy currents run, or barriers between dimensions are semi-permeable, or so the people peddling crystal healing claim."
"I knew it! So they're going to summon forth the Old Ones right there in the mall!"
"Well, it certainly looks like they might at least try. So, uh, what happens if they succeed? Is there any more detail than what I read in 'The Call of Cthulhu?'"
"You read Lovecraft? That's really sweet!"
"It was for the investigation. Anyway, does your white supremacist pal have any more stories about what happens if they come back?"
"He wasn't a . . . well, I guess maybe . . . well, he wasn't active in any organizations. That I know of. But anyway, if they come back? Bad, bad shit. They are namelessly incomprehensibly evil, and I guess they cause untold horror, death, and misery."
"Got it. It's kinda convenient that so much of this stuff is unknowably indescribable, isn't it? I mean, it really saves him from having to imagine something and then describe it. So basically we have no idea what to look for."
"Well, I think we'll know if it happens. And it'll be really really bad."
"Okay. I can't . . . I mean, I really can't believe I'm saying this, but I think you have to call this in to the Bureau. If it's real, it's more than the two of us can handle, and it might be good to get some of the Bureau's resources behind it. You have to find a payphone, look carefully to make sure there aren't security cameras or an ATM with a camera or anything nearby, and call them up. Tell them about the temple, and tell them you know that the mall is the target. But don't mention anything about Cthulhu. Just tell them you think there's a terrorist cell meeting in the temple and that they are going to hit the mall. That'll at least get them to check out the temple."
"Okay. I'll do it."
"Great."
"Can I ask you something, though?"
"Okay."
"Are you just humoring me? Or are you just really bored at work? Or do you actually believe me? I mean, I don't know what pushcart rental costs, but it couldn't be cheap . . . "
"A thousand bucks a month. They'd better make a move within the next thirty days, because I won't be able to afford to save the world for two months in a row. Anyway . . . there's something else."
"Yeah? What?"
"Well, I poked around in the computer system today. There was nothing for most of the bizarre words you've been throwing my way, but there was a file for Necronomicon."
"What did it say?"
"I couldn't get into it. It's a Level Z clearance. I don't know if anybody in my office could even get into it. I've never even heard of a Level Z clearance. I thought it stopped at E-1, and everybody with an E-1 clearance is in DC."
"But . . . what's that mean?"
"I really have no idea, but I suspect it means there's something big going on, or somebody really important knows about it. Maybe I'm wrong, and it's just a code word for a sting operation on mail-order brides for comic store owners or something. In which case I'm probably telling you to waste the FBI's time, but if this is something real, I just feel like it's actually more cautious to do something at this point than it is to do nothing."
Ted was silent for a moment. "It means a lot to me, you know. You believing me. Even in a kind of half-assed way."
"Well, you were right before, and it was pretty important. So maybe you're like the proverbial stopped clock." She smiled, and she hoped Ted could hear it through the phone.
Ted laughed. "Okay, so since I'm on a roll, let me tell you about the girl I met today. Ted prattled on about some overly-pierced pushcart vendor he had a crush on, and Laura signed off. She had a hard time sleeping. She wondered if Ted should get a gun.
The following
"So I looked up places of power," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. So it turns out you were right. They're places where cosmic energy currents run, or barriers between dimensions are semi-permeable, or so the people peddling crystal healing claim."
"I knew it! So they're going to summon forth the Old Ones right there in the mall!"
"Well, it certainly looks like they might at least try. So, uh, what happens if they succeed? Is there any more detail than what I read in 'The Call of Cthulhu?'"
"You read Lovecraft? That's really sweet!"
"It was for the investigation. Anyway, does your white supremacist pal have any more stories about what happens if they come back?"
"He wasn't a . . . well, I guess maybe . . . well, he wasn't active in any organizations. That I know of. But anyway, if they come back? Bad, bad shit. They are namelessly incomprehensibly evil, and I guess they cause untold horror, death, and misery."
"Got it. It's kinda convenient that so much of this stuff is unknowably indescribable, isn't it? I mean, it really saves him from having to imagine something and then describe it. So basically we have no idea what to look for."
"Well, I think we'll know if it happens. And it'll be really really bad."
"Okay. I can't . . . I mean, I really can't believe I'm saying this, but I think you have to call this in to the Bureau. If it's real, it's more than the two of us can handle, and it might be good to get some of the Bureau's resources behind it. You have to find a payphone, look carefully to make sure there aren't security cameras or an ATM with a camera or anything nearby, and call them up. Tell them about the temple, and tell them you know that the mall is the target. But don't mention anything about Cthulhu. Just tell them you think there's a terrorist cell meeting in the temple and that they are going to hit the mall. That'll at least get them to check out the temple."
"Okay. I'll do it."
"Great."
"Can I ask you something, though?"
"Okay."
"Are you just humoring me? Or are you just really bored at work? Or do you actually believe me? I mean, I don't know what pushcart rental costs, but it couldn't be cheap . . . "
"A thousand bucks a month. They'd better make a move within the next thirty days, because I won't be able to afford to save the world for two months in a row. Anyway . . . there's something else."
"Yeah? What?"
"Well, I poked around in the computer system today. There was nothing for most of the bizarre words you've been throwing my way, but there was a file for Necronomicon."
"What did it say?"
"I couldn't get into it. It's a Level Z clearance. I don't know if anybody in my office could even get into it. I've never even heard of a Level Z clearance. I thought it stopped at E-1, and everybody with an E-1 clearance is in DC."
"But . . . what's that mean?"
"I really have no idea, but I suspect it means there's something big going on, or somebody really important knows about it. Maybe I'm wrong, and it's just a code word for a sting operation on mail-order brides for comic store owners or something. In which case I'm probably telling you to waste the FBI's time, but if this is something real, I just feel like it's actually more cautious to do something at this point than it is to do nothing."
Ted was silent for a moment. "It means a lot to me, you know. You believing me. Even in a kind of half-assed way."
"Well, you were right before, and it was pretty important. So maybe you're like the proverbial stopped clock." She smiled, and she hoped Ted could hear it through the phone.
Ted laughed. "Okay, so since I'm on a roll, let me tell you about the girl I met today. Ted prattled on about some overly-pierced pushcart vendor he had a crush on, and Laura signed off. She had a hard time sleeping. She wondered if Ted should get a gun.
The following
Similar Books
