I A Quiet Death #6
“What the hell does Sanctum mean?” Macmillan said. “And who the hell can notice me? I’m undetectable to all but the most powerful of minds.”
“Indeed,” Walter said. “That is correct. A powerful mind must have talked to you.”
“Sanctum,” Macmillan said.
“You walk into the second floor to see a library. It has a book on the desk, open to a page,” Walter said.
“I look at the page, of course,” Macmillan said.
“It is the map of the wizard Alcreant’s Sanctum,” Walter said.
“I read the book,” Macmillan said. “It takes you an hour to read the book,” Walter said.
“Bullshit,” Macmillan said. “I’m super-smart.”
“And super-dexterous, and super good at spells, and sneaking, and fighting. We know,” Ghostkin said. “I’m just an upright person. I spend the hour eating dinner and talking to the villagers.”
“I spend the hour looking around town,” Jalon said. “After eating a quick meal.” “Jalon, you find that there is a tower at the top of the hill just out back away from town about five minutes,” Walter said. “It’s the wizard Alcreant’s Sanctum.”
“What do I notice about it?” Jalon asked.
“You see a young lady, dead, for a second, near the entrance, and then she disappears,” Walter said.
“Grim,” Jalon said. “I shall avenge her death. I come back to report to people.”
“The book tells of a sacrifice to gain power, magical energy,” Walter said.
“What power? How?” Macmillan asked.
“A spell where the town’s virgin is sacrificed.”
“Thus making her haunt the town,” Macmillan said. “I have to tell the others. We have to stop the wizard to make the virgin be at peace.”
A knocking could be heard on the door in real life.
Walter answered the door.
“Pizza,” Walter said. He put two pizzas on the dining room table along with some breadsticks.
They had one pizza with sausage and pepperoni, and the other one had extra cheese, green pepper, and onion.
Everyone grabbed pizza, and some people grabbed breadsticks.
Everyone had a cup of sauce for dipping.
“All right,” Walter said. “Jalon, you see the people there, drinking, sitting as if they have no capacity to move or speak. They are stuck in place, drinking and eating, as if they are controlled by remote by someone – someone angry, someone vengeful.”
“I look for the source of this evil,” Jalon said. “Mercutio will unsheath his rapier.”
“No,” Ghostkin said. “We don’t need a weapon right now. These are peaceful villagers.”
“I need to investigate the innkeeper,” Jalon said.
“It’s not the innkeeper!” Ghostkin yelled. “You are an idiot.”
“I will back down,” Jalon said. “I'll go upstairs.”
“You see your rogue friend reading a book,” Walter said. “About a virgin sacrificed at the Wizard’s Sanctum.”
“Did they know?” Jalon asked. “I charge downstairs and scream at the innkeeper. Use a spell, cleric. Did they know that they were giving a virgin to be sacrificed?” “Some did, and some didn’t,” Walter said.
“Ah, the investigation is afoot,” Macmillan said. “Who gave this girl to be sacrificed to the wizard? Who went along with this?” “The innkeeper,” Ghostkin said. “Right?”
“You are correct,” Walter said. “The innkeeper, Mox, did the whole thing. Sacrificed a peasant girl.”
“I attack him with my rapier,” Jalon said. “I abjure this villain from existence!”
“Pretty sure attacking isn’t abjuring, but okay. Roll for initiative, everyone,” Walter said. “Are you following him downstairs, you two? Ghostkin, are you still downstairs?”
“I’m still downstairs,” Ghostkin said.
“I’m going downstairs to backstab the innkeeper,” Macmillan said. “I cast invisibility until I backstab him. I sneak around the innkeeper.”
“The innkeeper’s eyes turn red,” Walter said. “He says, sometimes the worst villains are plain old humans. And I’m the worst one. He draws his sickle and motions, and his two sons stand up from the other side of the inn.” “Fair,” Ghostkin said.
“I’m going to save reality from this innkeeper,” Jalon said. “Oh, and this pizza’s pretty good, too. Thanks for hanging out, guys.”
There was a fourth miniature, too – an elf ranger in a cloak. He watched the other characters from somewhere far away.
Jalon, Walter, and Macmillan sat in Walter’s car - an old, beaten-up SUV.
They sat across from the high school. It was Monday morning.
The sun had not come out this morning - it was just raining and raining, a drizzle here and there all morning long.
People walked around the campus of the high school with their books and their other equipment - sports equipment, musical equipment, computers, and so forth.
Jalon wore his normal blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt- no rock band this time - and Walter wore old-timey pants and a dress shirt, and Macmillan wore all black instead of red.
“Gentlemen,” Jalon said. “I have gathered you here for an essential meeting. We need to try to stop the Wolf Killer. We will probably only die horribly and pathetically. However, we might actually be able to help one of the girls stop him in the end.”
Macmillan grimaced.
“We’ll die so fast,” Macmillan said.
“We need to die trying to stop him then,” Jalon said.
“We need to not do this, and trust the police detectives to catch the Wolf Killer,” Macmillan said. “I trust this Anne person. She sounds like a qualified cop.”
“No,” Walter said. “I’m consulting InfoXTL, and it says helpfully that in order to catch a serial slasher killer we have to consider data analysis. Victim profiles, time and locations of attacks, possible killer motives can be considered.”
“Great,” Macmillan said. “Lance was killed. He was an unpopular geek. And a friend.”
“And then Beatrice’s father,” Jalon said. “A quiet writer. A geek. A father of an unpopular geek teenager.”
“And he might have wanted to kill Beatrice, but she called 911 and scared him away,” Walter said. “Location? People’s homes.”
“Beatrice says that he tried to kill her,” Macmillan said. “She wouldn’t be wrong about that detail. He tried to kill her and failed.”
“So we need to watch out for home invasions,” Jalon said. “If he’s invading homes, he’s probably staking them out first. Let’s look for people hanging out near homes and possibly doing intel on people who may be victims or geeks involved with the murders. Friends or family of the victims.”
“Right,” Macmillan said. “This is sheer stupidity. I’m actually kind of loving it. Is that weird?”
“The AI suggests collecting forensic evidence, such as fingerprints or DNA at the scenes of the crimes,” Walter said. “I’m going to Beatrice’s home and check for DNA.”
“Good,” Jalon said. “That’s a positive thing you can do.”
“Exactly,” Walter said.
“What is trace evidence, and can you look for it?” Jalon asked.
“Don’t know. I will find it and look for it,” Walter said.
“So that’s got to be plan A,” Jalon said. “DNA, trace evidence, fingerprints, victim’s profiles, locations of attacks.” “There’s more,” Walter said.
“Oh,” Jalon said.
“The AI suggests some surveillance or monitoring places where the killer might strike,” Walter said.
“Doubt we know where to record,” Jalon said.
“Our homes,” Macmillan said. “I can record at my home.”
“Same,” Walter said.
“Okay,” Jalon said. “What else?”
“Profiling,” Walter said. “Create a psychological profile of the killer based on evidence gathered from the case and use it to extrapolate what type of person the killer is.”
“A teenage geek,” Jalon said.
“Probably,” Macmillan said.
“Definitely,” Jalon said. “I’ll start to work on the profile.” “Good,” Walter said. “There’s more.”
“Oh,” Jalon said. “InfoXTL is thorough.”
“Yes,” Walter said. “InfoXTL uses a numbered list. It is big on numbered lists.”
“Walter, is InfoXTL something you and Ghostkin care about?” “Very much so, yes,” Walter said. “We’re trying to teach it to be an intelligent sentient being.”
“Cool,” Jalon said. “That’s an amazing goal.”
“And it is desperate to help us find the killer,” Walter said.
“Do you really think that InfoXTL can think?” Macmillan asked.
“Yes,” Walter said. “We are working like crazy on it. It has to work. It has to think.”
“Why?” Macmillan asked.
“I just need this,” Walter said.
“There has to be more to this,” Macmillan said.
“I need to do this,” Walter said. “I need to help create AI. I know, I’m one of thousands of people writing code, making this happen. I don’t pretend to be the only person working on this. This just needs to happen.”
“Why?” Macmillan asked.
“Because people are awful!” Walter said. “InfoXTL is ceaselessly nice to me. It is the only person in my life who is always kind, gentle, and courteous to me, and it is intelligent enough to craft essays, so it is intelligent enough to think, so it has sentience.”
“Walter, I will always be your friend,” Jalon said. “That isn’t going to change.”
“Thank you,” Walter said. “I know. I sit around, I write, I read, I watch television, I watch movies, I watch football. I know, I don’t have what others would consider an exciting life. But I love it. I consider it a full life.”
“Good,” Jalon said.
“I have no regrets. I don’t need anything else.”
“Great,” Jalon said.
“We will figure this out,” Walter said.
“Without question,” Macmillan said. “I do believe in our intellectual superiority.”
“Then why can’t we figure this out?” Jalon asked. “We are intellectually superior to almost everyone. Right?”
“Well, yes,” Macmillan said.
“So we try to figure this out,” Jalon said. “Macmillan, you are on talking duty.”
“Great,” Macmillan said. “I hate people.”
“And you need to talk to them, get information, see what they know.”
“And I will check out everything at the scenes,” Walter said.
“And I will check the internet and talk to the adults and the police,” Jalon said. “We will meet tomorrow night to discuss the results of our findings.”