And the Staling Was Hung

The First Arc Deco Story

Synopsis:

When they end up calling the very last private paranormal investigator in the phone book, you know the case is going to going to be trouble. The damsel in distress will be beautiful but not to be trusted, and most of the bad guys will laugh at silver bullets and want to drag you down to some nasty under-hell. Not a good way to spend the Christmas holidays, but it is a living. An "Arc Deco" Universe Story

Sex contents:

No Sex

Genre:

Fantasy

Codes:

Magic, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Horror, Slow

Posted:

2008-12-21

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Thanks to the Editors for this story: Dowyd & DuffieDawg and several advance readers that prefer to maintain deniability.

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There is a very good reason that my professional ad in the phone book yellow pages is small and the very last listing. Nine times out of ten I will be uninterested in my client's case and decline to take their proffered job. By listing my name last I avoid most of the idiots who are just letting their fingers wander down the yellow pages. Usually the denser clients will choose AAA Adept Consultants and never even make it into the B's, let alone the Z's. This suits me just absolutely fine.

My name is Zak, short for Zachariah, my middle name. I never use my given name for any reason – for more than obvious reasons. Names have power and are never to be used cavalierly or thoughtlessly.

I don't handle divorce, missing spouses, children or pets; the big four of the PI's normal workload. Sure the extra money would be nice, but I don't really need it all that badly. My working rates are outrageously high and my tastes tend to run embarrassingly low. Take me to a fancy shindig and I'm the guy that will embarrass the bartender and the host by asking for a beer, instead of sampling the rare wines or crisp dry champagnes. I like my beer young, my food and women well seasoned, and my telephone ringing as little as possible. I'm not exactly lazy, but I don't like to work hard over trivialities. If you don't like this go ahead and call another Adept or Wizard.

In fact, my company, Zyphyr Investigations, doesn't even have an office, grungy or otherwise in some neglected old office building in the unfashionable part of downtown. I know it's traditional, but I'd never be there anyway, and then I'd have to hire a secretary. My way saves time and aggravation all around. My office telephone number routes directly to my cell phone, and that's good enough for any client that I would actually want to conduct business with.

You make enemies just by breathing in this business and more if you're a lowly magical Adept like I am. I'm rated as a 4.7; just enough to have to regularly register with the Republic's Bureau of Magical Affairs (BMA) but not high enough to enjoy the cream that true Wizardry brings to your door. Sure I got a decent college scholarship and could have had my choice of fat government jobs… with any number of agencies within either the Republic of Texas or the Great Western Alliance to choose from, but I'm a bit of a surly git and enjoy keeping my independence.

If I had tested up to a 5.0, the level of Wizard, my ass (and all of the rest of me) would pretty much belong to someone else. Thank goodness for underachievement!

Possessing magical abilities isn't all that rare, but finding folks who can actually effectively

use

these mystical abilities can be like finding a lost diamond in a dung hill. Possible, but you'll still have to shove a lot of shit. They test for the spark – that innate ability to just to be able to sense magical energies quite early in school nowadays. This childhood screening is mandatory and your BMA score card follows you everywhere in life – it's even on your driver's license.

The Alliance needs every potential Wizard they can scrape up and they are willing to move a lot of shit to find them. Adepts like me, bah! Sure, we're useful, but they can afford to pretty much sit us on the second string bench.

When it comes to magical ability, it's really pretty simple. There are really just four levels of ability:

"Normals" – Pretty much 90% of the world population. BMA tested to be a flat zero, null, notta, nothing.

"Sensitives" – About 7%. Folks that can sense magical energies – but can't use or manipulate them. They can look, see and feel… but they can't

quite

touch. They're usually a grouchy and troublemaking lot and full of regrets for their lack of 'power'. These are folks who have BMA scores between 0.1 – 1.9.

"Adepts" – About 2%. The vast majority of the 'working' magicians – like me. We can use and manipulate existing magical energies, but we can't use magic to change the default material nature of the universe, turning apples into oranges. Just as well… it's a screwed up world enough as it is. Most of us work for either governments or private corporations, but a few such as myself, go to into public service and get treated usually like shit. The BMA's for this run from 2.0 – 4.9 (mine is a 4.7). My talents are about on a par with one in every twenty to fifty thousand people or so.

"Wizards" – the 1% or so cream of the crop. These are the genetic lottery winners that get to play with the great mystical forces of the universe (which they can barely understand) and do interesting (usually highly destructive) things with their power. If they can think it, they

might

be able to do. In my opinion, the less that is done to the world – the better. Wizards (especially government ones) tend to be egotistical bastards who have a very inflated sense of themselves and of what ought to be done in the world. Their BMA's start at 5.0 and theoretically run to a perfect 10.0. You could count the number of 'perfect ten' Wizards that have ever lived on probably one hand.

Testing is pretty standardized now just about everywhere these days, even outside of the Alliance. Here in the Republic, all children take a government mandated initial testing on their thirteen birthday, with a final test on their eighteenth. Usually the scores don't vary much during those five years. You've either got the innate talent to sense and use magic or you don't. There are some genetic markers, and the gift seems to run strongly in families, but not definitively so.

If you're one of the lucky 3% or so that tests above a 2.0 you get to go a private High School full of other socially maladjusted young kids, all dreaming of wielding vast power against all of the other "normals" that pissed them off years ago on the school playground, or exacting other equally violent revenges against their new school rivals.

Study hard and don't piss off too many of the more important administrators or instructor Adepts, and you can get a nice college scholarship and get either your Professional Adept or Wizard certifications… and at least five years of government mandated service where you'll

really

learn how to blow shit up. After your mandatory government service you can 'request' to be released back into the civilian world, but most don't. Wizards have a minimum mandated government service of twenty years and even the ones who return to private life are kept in a Reserve pool. It's just like the National Guard, one weekend a month and a month of annual full-time service a year.

Don't cry too much for those over-worked crybabies. They get to make the

really

big bucks in private corporate service.

It's safe and secure doing government civil service work, and even reasonably well paid. You'll hardly ever get faced with a situation where some nasty extra-dimensional creature tries to eat you. The government frankly doesn't like 'independent' operators and wishes the law would get changed back to keep us all under strict government service once again until the day we die. 'Private' Adepts, such as me, are especially scorned and kept under as many thumbs as possible. My 'boss' at the BMA especially loathes me and is itching to either force me back under Uncle Tex's protective wing or else yank my license entirely.

Gaining your Private Adept license allows you to legally practice the arts of magic out in public (as long as you don't frighten the horses and the children) and guarantees a crapload of governmental red tape every time you even

think

about using your powers. Every 'job' I undertake entails paperwork (in triplicate) that goes to the BMA to make sure they can keep tabs on everyone and everything.

The alternative, being an 'Unregistered Practitioner' is far worse. In theory, everyone rated Adept or higher

must

be registered, but in practice there are far too many low level 2's running around living their daily lives for BMA to keep any sort of watch upon them. These are usually the minimally talented ones that were released from special training and sent back to a normal school early. Especially those that had little or no interest in using their miniscule talents, or simply don't have the training or aptitude to use what little skill they do have.

The BMA has enough trouble with powerful rogue Adepts and Wizards to bother hassling our weaker brothers and sisters. Once they've completed their final BMA testing at age eighteen, they're only required to keep their BMA Testing Card on their person at all times, but some don't even bother to do that.

To receive obtain the honored licensed title of Wizard, you would need to BMA test at least a "5.0", or about one in a fifty thousand people. The Bell Curve charting for Wizard power drops off fast. There are over twice as many ranked 5's as there are 6's to 9's combined all together. Powerful level 8 or 9 Wizards are scarce and invariably egotistical bastards who by a young age have discovered that they are essential critically necessary people and thus learn quickly that they don't have to follow any of the other little rules of polite society.

As far as I know, there have only been a couple of 'perfect tens' since the fabled days of Merlin. The legendary 19

th

century Wizards John Lovett of Texas and the great British Victorian Liam Quatermass, who launched the British moon expedition of 1899, are probably the only two modern era ones. Tesla, the most famous modern Wizard is alleged to be approximately a 9.9 as he has never taken the BMA test. The decimal inclined odds of becoming a 'perfect ten' seem to be about one in ten billion or so, plus or minus. There are a handful of known "high 9's", all working for some government doing important but mysterious things. I stay well out of their affairs and they don't interfere with my private investigations.

With the worldwide growth of the Arcane Deco movement since its birth in the 1920's, the United States has forced even those reactionary folks up in New England more or less to join the modern and more progressive 20th century… albeit with a lot of kicking and screaming that continues to this day. After all, it's been less than fifty years since their last 'witch burning' and folks up there with 'knacks' just seem to regularly end up on the wrong end of a lynching rope or suffer frequent mysterious accidents. It's technically legal now to use magic there, but the smart folks keep their talents well undercover. The Adepts there definitely don't advertise in the phone book.

No wonder the southern Confederacy has whipped their asses in two major wars and an interminable number of border disputes. Those devout God-fearing southern folk see magic as a divine gift and reward their Adepts and Wizards as an elite chosen vanguard sure to enter at the front of line at the gates of Heaven. They aren't

quite

a theocracy, like the kooks in Deseret, but it's not a safe place to be an agnostic or atheist either. Adepts and Wizards can openly practice, but it is rare for one to go into public service. Most remain working for the military or other branches of the government until the day they die.

Things are much more laid back down here in the Republic of Texas, part of the Great Western Alliance (GWA). The creed of "Live and Let Live" was even formally written into our Articles of Alliance. Our Emperor doesn't wield a great deal of personal power, and isn't much of an autocrat but it's not really his job anyway. He's mostly a token figurehead for diplomatic purposes and his real job is to keep the peace, supervise the massive bureaucracy and keep the GWA on its tracks. Ideally, allowing plenty of personal freedom to live happily with just enough government to keep the taxes collected, the mail delivered and a standing army barely large enough to keep our neighbors civil. The Republic of California likes to take this freedom to some absurd lengths, but our eternal range war with the rogue Theocracy of Deseret helps keep those loons at least slightly grounded with reality.

Of our two warring and bickering neighbors, the US and the CSA, we're just slightly more aligned with the commercial interests of the Confederacy but we try and keep neutral and keep decent relations with both, and try very hard to stay out of their quarrels. Both nations are jealous of our power and higher standard of living and if the GWA has a single nightmare it would be that the US and CSA might someday mend fences enough to ally together and drive west, united against us. There is a large underground and sometimes violent political movement that would like for all of the North American governments to merge together into a single political entity. This thought scares nearly everyone. This is one reason why we're never sought a greater alliance to crush the Deseret kooks all together. The current status quo satisfies too many career diplomats in each country.

Our Great Western Alliance includes the Republic's of Texas, Arizona, Greater New Mexico, Nevada, Western Colorado, and Greater California, along with the Protectorate of Nuevo Mexico, which covers all of northern Mexico to the very edge of Mexico City. In the last one hundred years Mexico has fought three major wars with Texas, and lost them all… badly. Losing a slice or three of territory each time. The north Mexican silver mines being the most valued prizes. Silver, as always, is one of the biggest fuels of this magical age, more precious than oil.

The Alliance is more an economic one rather than a political one, but does include a comprehensive mutual defense pact. An Emperor is elected by the various Republics and serves for life, and upon his death a new replacement will be voted upon. Much like the Roman Pope. In times of great national trouble, this can be a weakness to get all of the republics of our ad-hoc confederation all working together for the same goal, but in peacetime our freedoms tend to increase our prosperity over our rivals.

Outnumbered by over ten to one, the Nerunites of the Theocracy of Deseret have more than held their own in an on-again off-again war with us that has raged across the high central desert regions since the 1850's. They certainly embraced the entire spirit and lessons of Arc Deco far better than anyone else, in my opinion. Or perhaps they are just better attuned to the needs of finding and exploiting power, in all of its forms.

Magic is their bread and butter these days and what their war machines lack in quantity, they more than make up for in quality. Their religion is loathsome; a perverse off-shot of extreme Mormonism, perverted science (like racial eugenics), and corrupted American Indian and Aztec religious practices, combined with a zeal for death in combat that would make a Viking berserker yearning for Valhalla feel proud. They have a harsh and firmly structured political order of 'Warriors' (all lower classes of rabble), 'Warlocks' (mostly Adepts, who are their aristocracy) and 'Priests' (Wizard class magicians), whose word is law.

Women are chattel. Slaves by virtually any definition, who perform nearly all of the physical labor and are sorted by their breeding value; the larger, stronger girls sent to the harems of warriors and the smarter or magic sensitive ones selected for impregnation by Warlocks or Priests. There are vague but very persistent rumors that special breeding pens exist for the 'troublesome' women where they are subjected to horrific and terrible magical rituals. These unpardonable rites possibly include forced breeding with various 'visitor' races from other planes, to create a stronger race of warriors or more potent Warlocks for future planned generations.

The few warriors that survive to adulthood, the lucky or fittest, are allowed to breed their large harems of slave females for the next generation of warriors, hopefully bigger, stronger and nastier. By weeding out the weak from their gene pool, they hope eventually to create the ultimate caste of obedient but lethal soldiers, ready to kill without the slightest compassion or mercy in the name of their dark Gods.

Darwinist principles at their most frightening.

Possessing any magical ability at all guarantees survival and placement high into their genetic breeding pool. The top-most cream of their wizardry rises to join their Circle of Elders, but what unspeakable rites this group performs cannot be said with any certainty but it's strongly rumored that their Priests conduct numerous unspeakable rites that include ritual cannibalism and human sacrifice. All and all, a very scary and fucked up society.

If these rumors could be proven beyond a doubt to be fact rather than speculation, I had no doubt but every civilized nation on the earth would join together to completely eradicate their culture, putting even the smallest babies to the sword to scour the earth clean of their foul race. Hell, I'd probably help.

There will

never

be peace with Deseret – even the craziest kooks and the weak kneed pacifists in both California and the United States agree with us on this point; they are too wicked, and too 'inhuman' to join the company of world society as peaceful partners. At best, we now enjoy a simmering cold war of watchful and pessimistic uncertainness.

Here in Austin, the Capitol of the Republic of Texas, and senior partner of the GWA, we don't seem to be actually at war with anyone right at the moment, and that notion suits most of us just fine. We live in a world of a great many wonders… but there is far too much in our world that is unspeakably terrible. The constant and endless wars of the hundreds of petty small Kingdoms and States in the Old World of Europe weary everyone, and there is little ambition for military adventure here at the moment in the Americas.

I can't fix the gargantuan problems of our balkanized world, but sometimes I can fix a few small problems here at home that let the rest of us sometimes sleep a little bit easier at night.

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My business card says:

"Zak" Zyphyr, Licensed Private Adept #086524

- Paranormal Investigations & Remediation –

Board Certified in Artificement, Banishment & Protections

"It's an ill wind that blows no good"

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I like the name Zyphyr, in fact that was my nickname back in school; Zephyr. I had to replace the 'e' with a 'y' since someone had registered Zwiess Private Investigations, and I really,

really

want to be the last Adept listed in the book. Besides, no certified Adept or full blown Wizard

ever

puts their real names on their business card. True names have power, and the more power you have the better you should protect it.

As a rule of thumb, we licensed Adepts use two names and the big shot Wizards fashionably rely on just one, like "Georgio" or "Ramona" as if they were famous supermodels. When I passed my licensing exams I received an automatic and permanent name change, so "Zak Zyphyr" is now my proper legal name. They provided a full birth records scrub to remove any and all traces of my birth name, which is too close to your "True Name" for comfort, and I think they did a pretty decent job.