Diana Tregarde - Burning Water Part 18

"Huh?" he responded cleverly, then continued with dogged persistence. "Di tell me give me a good reason why everybody in the case that's a good Christian seems to be a real a.s.shole, and everybody that's your kind is a good guy "

Her lips tightened, and her puffy eyes narrowed a little.

Uh-oh; looks like I hit a nerve

"Just one minute there, fella," she said sharply. "Let's have some definition of terms, shall we? Just what do you mean by 'your kind,' hm?"

"h.e.l.l you know what I mean "

"No, dammit, I don't know!" she snapped, her patience obviously exhausted. "I'm a lot of things, I'm female, short, a yank, a psychic, a martial artist, a writer and I just happen to be a pagan along with everything else! I do not like that particular phrase, 'your kind.' Seems like every time it gets used it's meant to exclude. And I should b.l.o.o.d.y well think that somebody who's been on the receiving end of discrimination could be a little more sensitive!"

He flushed, first with anger, then with embarra.s.sment.

s.h.i.+t, she's right. That was a pretty crude way to put things.

"I'm sorry," he faltered. "But it just seems like I just don't understand some of the things I've been picking up about people's att.i.tudes while we've been tracking down what's been happening, and Di, I don't like what the implications are."

Di cast her eyes toward the ceiling. "Why?" she asked, "Why are these things always at 3:00 a.m.?

And why is it always me? Since when do I qualify as a teacher? n.o.body ever handed me the credentials. I never asked for the job."

Then she looked back at Mark, no longer angry, just weary. "Mark, why did you have to be different? Why didn't you go through this in college like everyone else? I'd have been happy to tell you.

I sure had a h.e.l.luva lot more time for three ack emma discussions back then, and a lot more energy."

"Because I guess because I always figured I knew what I was doing, then. Now I'm not so sure,"

he said, admitting now through his tone of voice that he was profoundly troubled. "You never really took me around with you like this much back in the old days. You kept the fact that you were pagan so much in the background that I was able to forget about it. And back then, the few times you hauled me with you to deal with psis that weren't on the Spook Squad I was one of your people. Now I'm not.

Now I'm The Man, and it seems like I'm a potential enemy."

She sighed. "Didn't like what you saw, hm? Okay. Use that brain, Magnum. In 30 a.d., who were heroes, the martyrs, the saints? And what was the major religion in the civilized world? The positions are just reversed, and for the same reasons. Established religion gets stodgy, mired in laws and bureaucracy, and repressive. The 'new' religion attracts the free thinkers, the ones who aren't afraid to ask questions and challenge the so-called holy writ. And those tend to be the humanists, too. Okay so far?"

"I guess "

"Established religion is like established anything else. It's easy." She looked off into s.p.a.ce, and paused for a moment, seemingly gathering her thoughts. "It offers answers you can get prepackaged and predigested; right off the shelf and the same for everybody. No thinking required, much less hard thinking. Like a board game; follow the rules, you go to heaven. That's why established religion gets the a.s.sholes. They aren't 'good' Christians, Magnum do you think for a minute any of those yuppie middle-managers that ended up as victims ever sacrificed so much as their convenience for any cause?

No I rather doubt they ever gave up a thing they valued for any reason or anybody. People like that aren't good anything. What they believe, they believe because it's 'appropriate,' it's what everybody believes, because it's 'the right thing to do' in short, it's easy. Our way isn't easy oh, we get a.s.sholes too, but they usually give up and get out or get it knocked out of them."

"Huh. I guess that makes sense. Because somebody who's really a fat-cat jerk won't get into anything that is going to give him grief "

"Right." She nodded slowly. "As to why those so-called good Christians ended up as the victims my opinion is that it was simple enough. I would guess it was because they were idiots, just like that jerk on the highway. Accidents looking for a place to happen. They lived their lives thinking they were so wonderful and invulnerable that nothing could happen to them unlike my people, who know d.a.m.n good and well that most hands are against them so they ignored dangerous situations my people knew better than to walk into. And finally the odds just caught up with them."

"Okay, I can get behind that. It makes sense they're the same 'this can't happen to me' bunch that I've seen on cases before. But "

"But that's not all. Spit it out before it chokes you."

"But why did you get into this? Why? You told me that you were raised Episcopalian so why did you change? I trust your judgement, Di what is it about this pagan thing that's got you doing it, instead of working within the C of E the way your great-grandmother did?" "Lord and Lady. I swear, Mark, you pick the weirdest times to go into seeker mode," she groaned.

"d.a.m.n, I wish you'd sprung this on me back when you were on the Spook Squad."

He just waited expectantly. She caved in.

"Look, I'll tell you what I told the folks who asked the same question back then," she replied, almost angrily, pus.h.i.+ng hair out of her eyes. "You get no answers from me, buddy. I don't give answers, I'm looking for them. You want the Tregarde Creed? You really want it? It isn't comfortable and it isn't easy, and all it's going to do is raise more questions "

He nodded anyway.

She sighed. "All right, you asked for it. First commandment. There ain't no such thing as 'one true way,' and the way you find is only good for you, not anybody else, because your interpretation of what you see and feel and understand as the truth is never going to be the same as anyone else's.

Second commandment. The only answers worth having are the ones you find for yourself. Third commandment. Leave the world better than you found it. Fourth commandment. If it isn't true, going to do some good, or spread a little love around, don't say it, do it or think it. Fifth commandment.

There are only three things worth living for; love in all its manifestations, freedom, and the chance to keep humanity going a little while longer. They're the same things worth dying for. And if you aren't willing to die for the things worth living for, you might as well turn in your members.h.i.+p in the human race. That's all there is, so far as I know or care. The rest is just ruffles and flourishes."

Her shoulders sagged, and she rested her chin on her hand. "Mark, I am not out to disturb anybody's faith. I happen to be happy and comfortable with a belief system that has a dual deity and operates on a lunar schedule. It suits my needs. If you happen to be happy and comfortable with a belief system that features a single masculine deity and operates on a solar schedule, fine. I don't give a fat d.a.m.n. What matters, Magnum, is what you do, not whose name you do it in." She picked up the coffee and took a large swallow, evidently forgetting that it was cold.

She made a sour face, and Mark had to suppress a nervous chuckle. "Look," he asked, "what about changing established religion from within? From what I've seen of the C of E, it's not that hard to get them to accept new things "

She snorted. "You're asking for my opinion. Kid, that's all this is my opinion, which is that history proves that in general, people that try to do that fail and end up breaking off anyway. Look at the record. Start with Christ move on to the Greek Orthodox schism, followed by the Albigensians, the Huguenots, the C of E, Luther, the Quakers Lord and Lady, I could go on forever. They all tried to change from within, and ended up splitting off. This is the lesson history told me: when a religion gets so mired in bureaucracy that compa.s.sion takes second place to the law, and the law is iron-bound and iron-clad and has no room in it for exceptions, then it's no longer a religion for humans, it's a religion for paper-pushers, painted saints, and marble statues. So I didn't bother to try working from within; I looked until I found what worked for me. That's my way and my truth you go find your own. End lecture. Happy now?"

"No. But I didn't expect to be happy, I just wanted information."

She nodded, and quirked her mouth in a half smile. "You're learning, Magnum."

He sighed, beginning to feel all the tension of the last couple of weeks knotting up his shoulders.

"You know, we don't need any more caffeine. How about a nightcap instead? Scotch and soda? Then I'll take you home."

She managed a real smile. "I won't say no."

"Moutainhawk!" Mark called, spotting someone he'd been subconsciously watching for all morning.

"Charlie!"

The uniformed patrolman with the carved-cliff profile stopped dead in the hallway and peered in Mark's direction. Mark waved; Charlie waved back, and waited for Mark to catch up to him.

Charles Mountainhawk had been one of Mark's fellow cadets at the police academy; when their stint as rookies was over, though, Charlie had elected to stay on the street while Mark grabbed his chance at Homicide. Charlie was a good guy but more important than that, at least at the moment, he was a full - blooded Cherokee.

And he had a brother who was a political activist. So Charlie had ears in places where Mark had no hope of going.

"So, what's new besides the rumor that the city is paying you to drive a pretty young lady all over town?" Charlie asked, grinning fiendishly as Mark got within easy conversational distance.

"Well, the rumor's true for once," Mark replied, returning the grin and the slap on the back. "How many scalps you lifted this week?"

"Three; got me a dope dealer this morning. How come you get all the luck?" Mountainhawk set off back down the corridor with an easy stride.

Mark kept pace with him. "Largely because she's on the big one, and I was the guy that suggested we bring her in on it. And I dunno about luck; remember that smack dealer Narco hauled out in a sack two, three weeks ago? We stumbled over him, and he just about ventilated us. But yeah, mainly you're right; you know good and well this sucker's gonna be mostly legwork, and it's no bad thing doing it in attractive company."

"Huh." That grunt and the sideways look Mountainhawk gave him were all that showed his surprise.

"So that rumor's true too."

"Which one?" Mark asked.

"I just got off. Got time for coffee?"

Bingo I think I just hit pay dirt. Charlie wants to know something which means I can trade favor for favor.

"Sure "

"Outside?"

Ah ha. He doesn't want anybody to eavesdrop. Big bingo.

"Try again," Mark countered. "It's raining cats out there."

Mountainhawk made a sour face. "Been in here filling out reports for the past two hours. h.e.l.l, it figures. Where can we get some privacy?"

Mark thought for a moment. "Hey, about that back staircase over by the evidence room?"

Charlie shrugged. "'Bout as good as any, I suppose."

A few moments later they were perched on the linoleum-covered stairs like a couple of kids, coffee cups in hand. Mark almost chuckled; Charlie looked pretty odd sprawled over the stairs in his uniform.

At least he was wearing jeans The staircase hummed with machine sounds and the whisper of the air-conditioning plant, but this area was so seldom used that the landings had storage cabinets stacked on them. It would be a good bet that they wouldn't be disturbed here. Mark waited for Charlie to make the opening move.

It would take someone who knew him to tell, but Mark could see he was fidgety. "Okay," he said finally. "Rumor has it that this pretty thing you've been chauffeuring around is an expert on the occult."

"Cults?" he replied innocently.

"No, the occult. Ghosts, monsters like " he looked sheepish and embarra.s.sed. " she's a bigtime Medicine Woman."

"Where'd you dig this up?" he asked quietly.

Mountainhawk looked even more uneasy, as if he was trying to decide something. "Okay, it's not a rumor," he finally sighed. "It's something I was figuring, and I asked Pancho Villa about it you know, your buddy, Ramirez. The way he hemmed and hawed, I figured I was right. Look, Mark, you can level with me, I believe in this stuff, my old grand-dad is a Medicine Man himself."

"You're right," Mark replied softly. "The Chief doesn't know it, but that's the real reason why I was pus.h.i.+ng to call her in. She is kind of an occult expert, something like a Medicine Woman, I guess. Di and I go 'way back, and I used to help her out when we were both in college. When I knew this was something other than a Manson-type lunatic, I started pulling some strings to get her here however I could. She's tracked this sort of thing before only by what we've hit so far, she says she's never dealt with anything this powerful before. This thing is a-one major bad news "

"Yeah, I was wondering " Mountainhawk replied unhappily. "See, my grand -dad back in Oklahoma's been writing me, telling me to cut out, take a leave of absence or something."

"Oddly enough, from what we've uncovered so far, you might be one of the safest it seems to prefer WASP victims "

"Huh-uh; that's not what grand-dad meant. He thinks if I stay it's gonna get around to recruiting me." Mountainhawk's face twitched a little. "You gotta promise not to laugh "

"Word of honor."

"I see things."

"Like what? Things happening at a distance, or things not visible to ordinary sight?" Mark asked seriously.

"The second grand -dad calls it 'spirit vision.' Hey, you you know what I'm talking about!"

Mountainhawk was clearly surprised.

Mark shrugged. "How the h.e.l.l do you think I met Di in the first place? At a church picnic? Yeah, I know I got a touch of that stuff myself, but don't spread it around. I get ribbed enough as it is." He thought for a moment. "Tell you what, Cochise, I'll trade you favor for favor. If you can get your brother to keep his ear to the ground for us, I'll get Di to fix it so this thing can't see you or at least, can't get at you. She put what she calls 's.h.i.+elds' on me a long time ago, or I'd probably be taking a rest cure right now. What I've got can get you locked up if it gets out of hand."

Mountainhawk considered that for a moment, looking greatly tempted. "First, tell me why, and what you want to know."

"We've got a hot tip that this thing is a power native to this continent. The way I've got it figured, that won't stay secret for too much longer among the activists if it's even a secret now, at all.

So maybe we can get at it through the native grapevine."

"Okay, Johnnie can go for that. He's into s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the white-eyes with lawyers, not chopping 'em up on rocks." Charlie smiled mirthlessly. "Probably he'd say that they don't suffer long enough if you just chop 'em up."

"There are times when I'd agree with you," Mark replied wryly.

Charlie looked Mark over with a thoughtful eye. "Hey, Cisco Kid you know, you could pa.s.s as one of us with the right person vouching for you. Johnnie just might be willing to do that, too if you want."

Mark didn't even have to think about it. He was getting pretty weary of not being able to do anything on his own in this case. This would be right up his alley, if Johnnie Mountainhawk could be talked into it. "h.e.l.l' yes, I want. I'm beginning to feel like nothing more than a driver or a bodyguard."

"Okay, I'll see if Johnnie will front for you."

"I'll pay off my half of the promise now; Di's at my place. I'll take you over right this minute, if you want."

Charlie stood, and dumped his plastic cup in the ashtray fastened to the wall as he did so. "The sooner the better. Grand-dad notwithstanding, I can't afford to take a leave. Too many car payments, and a new baby on the way."

Well nice to have a piece of good news for a change! "Hey, you old so-and-so, why didn't you say something!" Mark exclaimed as they headed for the parking lot exit and the pouring rain.

Mark gave the recognition yell which today was "Encyclopedia salesman!" as he unlocked the door. Di had taken to keeping her piece close at hand, since they weren't feeling much like taking chances. Standing in the rain was like standing under a shower at full blast, and he didn't feel like waiting around for her to answer the bell. He and Charlie piled through as soon as he got the door opened, since his apartment was one without a sheltering overhang. Cops tended to choose places that didn't have anywhere for a would-be ambusher to lurk.

"My G.o.d, you look like somebody tried to drown you!" Di exclaimed from where she was crouched over five books spread open on the floor of the livingroom. "Who's your handsome friend?"

"Charlie Mountainhawk, and he's married," Mark replied, as Charlie blushed. "Charlie, this is Di Tregarde. Di, he wants to trade favors."

"Darn, the good ones are always taken." Di stood up, cheerfully dusting off the knees of her jeans.

Charlie blushed again. "Name the favors; I'm easy, but I ain't cheap."

She grinned insolently at the both of them, as Charlie did his best to figure out if he should be embarra.s.sed or amused.

"Charlie's going to get us some info from the activists if you s.h.i.+eld him."

Di immediately went into "serious" mode. "Problems?" she asked. "I like to know what I'm dealing with."