The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump

But merdful heavens, the expense! A security system isn't just a seal; the backup is a lot more important Maintaining a whole cult at a level sufficient to keep its god active and alert will kill you with priests' fees, fanes, sacrifices, what have you. I wondered how much of the bill Loki was paying itself and how much it was passing on to the taxpayer. Somehow cost overruns never turn out to be anybody's fault. They're just there, like crabgrass, and about as hard to weed out.

Be that as it may, Magater Arnold rubbed the toggle that served as the door Herm's erect phallus. The Herm must have recognized his touch, for it smiled and the door came open.

It dosed behind us with a definitive-sounding snick. "Coffee?" Arnold asked, waving to a pot that sat on top of a little asbestos salamander cage.

"No, thanks," I answered; I'd just as soon drink vitriol as muck that was reheating all day. And besides - "You really don't feel like following me down the hall if I have to use the men's room, do you?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Thaft right, you're wearing a visitors talisman, aren't you? I hope you don't mind if I have a cup?"

At my inviting wave, Arnold poured himself one. It looked as thick and dark and oily as I'd figured it would. Even the fumes were enough to make my nostrils twitch. When he set the cup down, he asked, "So what have we done that's brought the EPA down on us?" He didn't say this time, but you could hear it behind his words.

"I don't know that you've done anything," I answered. "I do know that somebody's spells are leaking out of the Devonshire dump, and I also know that whoever that somebody is, he's murdered monks to keep his secret."

That got Arnold's instant and complete attention. His eyes gripped me like the Romanian giants Eastern European sorcerers use to handle magical apparatus they wouldn't touch with a ten-foot Pole. He was quick on the uptake. The Thomas Brothers fire is connected to this affair, is it?" he said. "A bad business, very bad."

"Yes." I let it go at that; no need for him to know I was personally involved with the monastery fire. I pulled out my chart. "As near as I can tell from this, Magister Arnold, Loki puts more toxic spells into Devonshire than anybody else - and the ones I have here are those you admit to publicly."

"For the record," Arnold said loudly, "I deny there are any others." His tone was just as sincere as Tony Sudalds', and told me (in case I hadn't been sure already) a Listener was in there with us.

I liked that tone even less from the magister, because I knew he wasn't on my side while I hoped Sudakis was. All Arnold wanted to do was play with his projects, whatever they happened to be. It wasn't that I doubted their worth. I didn't; as I've said, I'm demons for the space program myself. But nobody has any business fouling the nest and then pretending his hands are clean.

"For the record," I answered, just as loudly and just as snotcily, "I don't believe you." Arnold glared; my guess was that nobody'd talked to him like that for a while. I let him steam for a few seconds, then said, "Are you seriously telling me nothing too secret to get into your ERA forms goes on at the Cobold Works?"

"What Cobold Works?" he said, but he couldn't keep a twinkle from his eye. That the establishment in the desert exists is an open secret. But his smile disappeared in a hurry.

"If it's too secret to go into the forms, Inspector Fisher, it's also too secret to talk about with you. No offense, but you need to understand that."

Tm not out to betray our secrets to the Hanese or the Ukrainians," I said. "You need to understand that, and to understand that the situation around the Devonshire dump is serious." I tossed him the report on birth defects around the site. As he read it, his face screwed up as if he'd bitten into an unripe medlar. "You see what I mean, magister."

"Yes, I do. You have a problem there, absolutely. But I don't believe the Loki Space Division, at least, is responsible for it If you'll give me a chance, I'll tell you why."

"Go ahead," I said. Nobody I'd talked to would even entertain the idea that he could be responsible for the leaks.

Well, I didn't find the idea entertaining, either.

"Thanks." Arnold steepled his fingers, more a thoughtful gesture, I judged, than a prayerful one. He went on. "I gather this toxic spell leak is believed to be through the dump's containment system rather than airborne."

"Yes, I believe that's true." I said cautiously. "So?"

He nodded as if he'd scored a point "Thought as much.

I'm not breaking security to tell you that Space Division spells are universally volatile in nature, with byproducts to match. That's not surprising, is it, considering - what we do?"

"I suppose not," I said. "What exactly is your consortium's role in getting the Garuda Bird out of the atmosphere?"