A Lazy Mage Quests (Un)EZ Creds Ch. 10

Donovan's clinic was around the corner from a strip mall. The anchor tenant long ago forced into bankruptcy by the megacorps, the largest square footage had gone through a long string of tenants. Currently, it was subdivided into something of a mini-mall. Donovan had rented space and started his clinic. Knocking out some cinder blocks and installing a metal door created an entrance on the side street, giving the patients a little more sense of privacy while trying to minimize the sense of commercialism.

As Spector walked past the strip mall's shops, a mom and pop restaurant caught his eye and his rumbling stomach reminded Spector he hadn't eaten since breakfast and there was no telling how long the quest would take. As he continued walking, Spector checked in with Skid to see if Joey had sent up a slew of drones to track the Prairie Cat. Skid reported Joey was just now getting back to his shop. Spector thanked Skid and cut the connection, then hurried a bit faster.

Donovan greeted Spector when he finally arrived at the clinic. "Rev, I was expecting you all day. Glad you finally made it," the doctor said.

"Sorry, Donovan. Today just did not go anything like I'd hoped it would, and when it started going south, I had no idea how long the delay would be. Lucky for me, you don't have to patch me up and I only need to do a few more things," Spector said. "Have you got a place I can astral project from?"

Donovan said, "If you want to go in room three and get into a gown -."

"Doc, I just need a place to lie down for right now so I can project. I'm not ready to start the quest just yet," Spector said.

"Sure, go into room 3," Donovan said.

Spector hurried to it speaking back over his shoulder, "Maybe we'll order some takeout from somewhere when I'm done with this. Your choice, on me."

Spector closed the door to room three behind him and quickly laid down and astrally projected, rushing to Joey's at the speed of thought. Arriving just after Joey, Spector hovered in astral space and spied on the man, waiting to see what his next move would be. Teflon Joey parked Spector's bullet damaged car and told one of the guys to fix the windows and body work. "And let that dirt ball outta the trunk."

Joey went to his office, stood his chair upright and sat down on it behind his desk. Twice he started to reach for the phone as he stewed, his aura going through various ranges of anger. Noticing the penknife, Joey picked it up and used one of its small blades to clean under his fingernails, then seeming to notice his soiled attire, he went into an adjoining bathroom and removed it. He washed up, lingering over the spot where Spector pricked him, then put on a set of coveralls. He returned to the chair behind the desk, but checked his watch before sitting, left the office, locking the door behind him. Saying goodnight to the nearest guy, Joey went outside and got in a slightly stretched Caddy. Spector returned to his meat body and called Skid.

"Joey just left the shop, can you have a drone tail him? He's in the black Cadillac. We may need to know where he lives or at least if he is going to see someone right now," Spector said.

"Sounds like a good idea, I'm on it," Skid said.

Recalling Donovan's earlier prompting to get into a gown, Spector disrobed. He left his socks on, they could cut them away if need be. As he arranged his clothes to stow, the hardness of his phone reminded Damon he'd said he'd call Mara from the clinic and made the call. It went to voice mail and he left a brief message. Coming out of room three, his clothes in a neat bundle around his weapons, Spector asked, "Where to now?"

"Well, the pizzas should be here any time. We have a little area over here for the staff to take a break, Donovan said, guiding Spector to a small dinette table. A nearby cart held a microwave with a coffee maker stacked atop it. Taking his clothing bundle, Donovan said, "I'll put this under lock and key for you."

"Hold up," Spector said and fished out some of the confiscated cred cards, thought about how easy they might be to track to the clinic and put them back and retrieved his own card. Donovan took his bundle into an office and locked it in a file cabinet, returning as the pizzas arrived. Spector paid for them and the staff filtered through grabbing slices as he and Donovan sat and ate.

"I wasn't really sure what you liked on them," the doctor said, "so I ordered a variety, figuring it wouldn't be polite to eat in front of everyone."

Spector said, "No problem. I'd rather get on their good side than have any lingering resentment when I'm out. Did you get enough for everyone? I'm sort of hungry."

"If they get a slice or two, at least you shared, "Donovan said with a wink, "but I don't think there will be a problem. We have a pretty small staff."

Spector quickly ate his fill then asked where they wanted him while he was astral questing and was pointed down the hall. As he went, he looked back to see if the nurse and the receptionist were checking out his ass, and catching them glancing said, "Sorry ladies, no bare ass hanging out in the wind to see here." At the end of the hall, Donovan could be seen around the elbow in an area set up as a recovery area.

"Pick a bed, make yourself comfortable and do your thing and I'll have a nurse get you hooked up to some monitors in no time. We'll wait until you need anything else, but we'll probably start a drip to keep you hydrated in a couple hours and a nutrient drip tomorrow. Spector picked a bed as Donovan spoke and was conjuring a spirit to accompany him on the quest as Donovan left and a nurse came his way.

The summoning went fine, but Spector blew the backlash. Grateful countless time for having the trauma damper implanted, it absorbed some of the impact, but left him cradling his hand and rocking, trying not to disturb his dislocated fingers while holding back a flood of profanity. The unabsorbed Drain backlash was severe enough to cause the muscles in his hand to betray him and dislocated some fingers from their sockets. Spector was chanting, "Oh shee," over and over through clenched teeth as the nurse rushed to him and hooked him to the monitors. She consulted the med advice, entering visual data. It quickly said and read: diagnosis dislocated fingers and instructed how to set them back in their socket. The Nurse quickly and professionally did so and Spector quit his mantra, the pain gone, and thanked the nurse profusely. "Sorry to get off to such a bad start, but I am soooo glad I decided to come here."

Trying to relax, Spector checked the wall clock and estimated he had time to rest and recover from the numbness in his hand and the throbbing headache. He considered calling off the quest. The way this day was going he'd likely have to run the gamut of places, no doubt dying just before reaching the Oracle. But then Spector recalled assensing the free spirit before it departed. He knew its force and its native plane and he got greedy for the power it could give him. He instructed the spirit to attack any who did him ill.

When he could flex his hand, just feeling a warm glow in his fingers, and the pounding in his temples subsided, Spector figured there was nothing left to wait for and astrally projected for the metaplane of man. Spector's way was immediately blocked by The Gatekeeper. This time it appeared in the black void looking like a clown. Not being one of those terrified of clown's nor particularly fond of clowns, Spector said, "Out of my way, clown."

It replied, "Your daughter is not your blood."

"No kidding," Spector said then asked, "what was your first clue?" No reply. Just something to distract me. Make me lose focus on what I'm doing. "What do you want me to do to get you out of my way, clown?" The void disappeared.

Spector was back at his high school. More precisely, he was back at his high school's carnival day in a booth with the beautiful female elf who was checking her make-up in a compact mirror as some clown drifted past the back of the booth. He remembered this day. The elf was about twice the age she was pretending to be, hiding out from some alleged pursuer. She had stolen most of the money from the kissing booth, leaving him holding the bag. And he'd let her get away with it because he was infatuated with her. Spector tried to recall what his quota had been, recalling one hundred dollars and recalling how long and how many unattractive girls had paid for kisses. And then some gay man had decided to test the waters and Spector's stomach lurched at the memory and the humiliation.

But this isn't then. It's not even real to a large extent Spector thought. The passing women seemed to notice Spector and they were lining up. And they were actually somewhat attractive, not like when this was really happening and his least repulsive customers were pimply underclass girls.

The elf beside him said, "My, what do we have here?" Spector looked to his other side, dreading he'd see the spirit he'd brought along and wondering what it might look like. But no spirit - or anything else - was there. "Oh silly, I meant you," she said as she touched his arm, "you handsome stranger."

WTF? Spector thought, then borrowed her compact without asking and checked his reflection. Well hello there! So this is what an increase charisma spell can do for a guy.

Spector looked at the first woman in line and recognized a teacher he'd had a crush on. "It is a minimum one dollar for a kiss, but when it's over, feel free to donate whatever you think it was worth," Spector said and took the teacher in his embrace. Spector started out slow, a chaste lip to puckered lip kiss more or less expected at such a function, but then his lips started caressing her's and she lost the pucker. Spector's hand went around behind her head and her lips parted as they shared the same air. His fingers ran through her hair then grabbed a fist full as she reacted. Spector's other hand encircled her waist and he leaned into her over the booth's counter. She pressed her body toward him, their chests meeting. He felt her nipples harden through the multiple layers of cloth as she inhaled deeply.

"Miss Abernathy!" said a male voice and they broke the kiss.

Spector's hand around her waist kept her from falling and she composed herself, then dug into her purse and gave him a twenty. Spector looked over the line, then to where the interruption came from and he made a decision. He dug into his pants - I have pants, maybe this will work - and fished out a wallet. Opening it revealed one dollar, not the seventy-nine he hoped to find. "Mine is still a dollar," the elf purred.

Spector took her in an embrace, and immediately was greeted by an open mouth and seeking tongue. Spector fought for dominance and every time he achieved it, he tried to transition into sensuousness, but she was toying with him and dragged it back to the sensual. Spector could feel the shouting man working his way through the line that had turned into a crowd, spectators vying for a better view, and knew sooner or later the man would be pulling them apart. Shifting his embrace, he mashed her erect nipples into his chest, massaging her breasts by using the arm around her back to guide her upper body against his chest. He knew how nipple sensitive she was and slowly tortured her. When he shifted their embrace, he ground a thigh between her legs and into her pubis, recalling making love to her and her grinding it into him as she used to when nearing orgasm. She did so now and Spector slapped her ass cheek causing a sharp intake of breath and then she was tensing in orgasm. Recalling the way she had used him made Spector want to deny her the gratification, he shifted his footing, thinking of the spectacle they were putting on and dipped her like it was the end of a dance. He stood her upright again and steadied her until her legs quit trembling. Women around the booth were shoving money toward him; they started bidding.

The elf opened her money drawer and gave Spector all she had, seventy-nine dollars and the surroundings immediately changed as though someone had turned to a different trid channel. Spector found himself on a quiz show set.

So much for The Gatekeeper Spector thought but what is this all about?

"These three species previously only known in fantasy are thought to have been specimens aboard the attackers' ships," The host read.

I know this Damon thought and picked up his clicker to answer. "What are dragons, elves, and orks?" Spector answered in question form.

"Correct. You control the board and choose the next clue," the host said.

The categories read Megacorporations, New Beings since The Attack, Cyberware and Bioware, Spirit Beings, Blood Sports, and Matrix Mania.

"I'll try Spirit Beings for 200," Damon Spector said.

"By Summoning, conjuring or invoking," the host read.

"How are spirits brought to our plane?" Damon answered. "Spirits for 400."

"Spirits that are able to leave their native domain."

"What are great form spirits?" Spector said. "Spirits for 600."

"Spirits that remain in our world after their master loses control."

"What are free spirits?" Spector said, "Spirits for 800."

"Spirits requiring the magician to sacrifice part of his magic."

"What are Ally spirits?" Spector said, "Let's finish off the category."

"This is a major requirement to bind a free spirit."

"What is a true name?" Spector answered, vanished from the quiz show set, and found himself at the Oracle.

This time the Oracle resembled an ancient stone temple complete with several stone columns supporting what appeared to be a pitched stone roof. The white columns and roof enclosed a coral pink, walled room with an open arched entry. Damon entered and saw the interior was sheathed in black stone shot through with silver, gold, red and white streaks. The name Damon sought was formed from the gold streaks, glowing when his gaze fell upon it. No sooner than committing it to memory, Spector found himself back at the clinic.

Spector pressed the call button and a nurse promptly arrived, unhooking the intravenous lines as Spector requested. He inquired about his doctor friend and was informed the Doctor was operating on a client at this time. Spector asked for his thanks to be passed along and after dressing and settling his bill with the clinic, he walked back to where he'd parked, relieved to see the Prairie Cat was still there and unmolested. Damon set the autonav to take him home and started to relax. The quest had taken exactly twenty-four hours and it took Spector a little while to realize it was a new day.

Damon's first hint was the odd sensation of not feeling any spirit presence. When he turned his conscious mind to check, he realized he had no spirits on hand. This late in the day, Spector considered skipping summoning any spirits. Then he reconsidered all the trouble he'd been through lately and the fix he'd be in without their back-up and he began summoning.

When the first attempt resulted in no spirit and a nosebleed for his trouble, Spector almost decided to delay until after sunset. Instead, he lowered his expectations and tried summoning less powerful servants. The strategy worked and in short order Spector had a full complement of spirits.

Next was what to do with the Prairie Cat. It was unlikely Mara wouldn't notice it and question where it came from. Where could he park it without drawing unwanted attention? A campground? Truckstop? Neither appealed to Damon and he would still need transportation home, so he decided to use it to get home then send it away. On the way home, Spector developed the idea to program the autonav to circle the city several hours and then either return to his home or just wait for him to retrieve it with a phone call to the autonav. Letting the autonav drive, Spector reclined in comfort on the Cat's leather couch. The thought occurred this was a great mode of transportation he could easily get used to so why not just send it to Joey's for "legalization"? Arriving home, Spector unloaded the weapons and gear he had brought along and sent the Cat to Joey.

Damon let Mara know he was home and was told leftover dinner was in the refrigerator. He fixed himself a plate, nuked it and grabbing a Fizzykaf soda joined her watching the trideo. The reheated meal interested Damon more than the program, but he knew Mara liked it so he sat and mostly ate. He woke up in the dark still sitting in the recliner, his mostly eaten plate of food set beside him on an end table.

Damon shifted his perception to the astral just to get a bit more light and cursed himself for dozing off without summoning more spirits after sundown. He got that chore out of the way in much easier fashion in the friendly confines of his own home. Damon went to his den. The walls were adorned with several jigsaw puzzles, epoxied to a cloth backing, coated in polyurethane, framed and hung. Damon opened a new 5000 piece puzzle and started putting it together by the light of several candles lit for the occasion.

Working the puzzle, Dogs Playing Cards, Damon considered other preparations he wanted to check off before attempting to bind the ally spirit. Before life got so hectic, Spector had few tasks to set his spirits to besides protecting him and mostly wasting them on chores. One of the jobs he had given them was erecting wards, astral barriers only select beings could pass through. Consequently the den had a double digit rating (on the Walker-Riggs Scale) ward surrounding it and another in a smaller space within the den. Actually, Spector and the puzzle he was putting together were currently within the smaller warded area, at the moment giving Damon three barriers to astral intrusions. He would want to remove the table and chair after finishing the puzzle, mounting, sealing, framing and hanging it.

Summoning the spirit within this smallest ward might not contain it, but it should at least delay it wreaking havoc on the surroundings for a moment or two if Spector's binding failed.