016 - Taking Stock, Sorting Out The Available Evidence

Steven was met at the security cordon by Leticia. At five foot-nothing with dark skin and beaded cornrows from the ghetto, she stood straighter and more distinct than the Sheriff Deputy who stood a head taller than she did. Deputy Poulson was younger than Steven, shorter, and had the earnest look of someone trying to do a thankless job. They all went to the oversized luggage claim, and waited for his gun to clear security, where Steven put it into his computer bag. Steven gave his car keys to Leticia, and went with Deputy Poulson in his police car.

“While we go, I want to ask you some questions. Please speak clearly so that this recorder can hear you.” Deputy Poulson put a digital recorder on the dashboard.

As they went south, Steven opened his bag and reloaded his gun. He then holstered it in his belt, much to the deputy’s nervousness.

“What kind of gun is that?”

“Sig 229 .40 cal.”

“Like it?”

“I prefer a 1911, but it does the job. What can you tell me about what happened?”

“I’m the one asking the questions. First: Your name, address, and occupation.” He tapped on the digital recorder on the dash.

“Steven Caplan. 705 McQueen Road, Gardnerville, NV. Business owner, Caplan Bags and Packs.”

“Where’s the business located?” Deputy Poulson drove carefully south across the Washoe Valley.

“You already know that. It’s at 800 Jack’s Valley Road.”

Both men were obviously antagonistic to each other, mostly keying off of Steven’s mood. But neither was doing anything about it.

“When were you last home?”

“This morning. I flew out of town on business.” Steven was wishing he was driving, or Rox was.

“What kind of business, where?”

“That’s not your concern. But, for your paranoia, you need to know…” Steven took a breath to calm down. “I went to make a presentation to some vendors at the University of Utah Book Store in Salt Lake City. Friday I was to go to some sellers in Denver. Saturday I was going on to Colorado Springs, and Monday to Boise. I was going to make sales pitch’s about making products for them, and having them distribute my products. That done, I planned to come home and take the family on vacation.”

“Will you provide a hard copy of your schedule so that we can check it?”

“It can be arranged.” Steven answered.

“So, what happened today?” Deputy Poulson asked.

“You mean why I came home?” Steven responded.

“Yes.”

Steven started into what happened. “I was giving a presentation, when my phone rang. I shut its ringer off, and completed the presentation. I checked the massages. The first was my general manager. I called her, and she told me about my house being broken into, and my family missing. After arranging with her to get back here, I checked my next message, presumably yours. I then called and talked to you, and told you my plans to that point. That done, I then down loaded my flight plans, and went to the Salt Lake City airport. After checking in, I called you again. Then flew here, met my General Manager and you, and here we are. So what happened at my house? I have some bare bones, but I don’t think I have the full story.”

Deputy Poulson shrugged slightly. “It’s only fair. So far, all we have been able to learn is that two men broke into your house shortly after your kids got home from school. Your wife must have arrived home while they were there and somehow went with them.”

“How did they leave?” Steven took his turn to ask questions.

“We don’t know yet. Nobody saw any strange vehicles, and it appears yours are all accounted for.” Deputy Poulson answered.

“And the dogs? What happened to them?” Steven wanted to know about everything, and the order of events.

“It looks like they knifed both of them.”

“Any blood around, from anybody, besides the dogs?” Steven was not satisfied.

“No. We're waiting for you to lead us through the house to say what might be out of place. You have an awful lot of weapons in there.”

Steven shrugged “And other collected things. I served in The Corps, have CCW’s for several states, and my wife is a trained hand fighter. But you should already know that.”

“Is there anyone you know who would want to kidnap your kids?” Deputy Poulson finally got to the question he wanted to ask.

“No.” Steven answered this flatly.

“Offend anybody lately,” the Deputy probed.

“Just you,” Steven countered.

They drove quietly the rest of the way. Steven thought out just how he wanted to do things, mainly to be calm, and orderly while doing them, and to look for things out of place.

*          *          *

Caspian watched as a new constable’s vehicle arrived. Even from this distance he recognized Steven’s tall figure getting out of the car. Caspian figured it was time to alert Alistare so he could set any thing he might be able to do rolling.

*          *          *

Steven found the house a mess. Another deputy who had been sitting in her car waiting joined them at the door, and followed Steven and Deputy Poulson around with a video camera. Steven looked around the entry way and front hall. Rox’s gym bag was on the floor in the front hall, already tagged. The pocket door to the kitchen was closed, with a bit of police tape holding it that way. The coat tree and umbrella stand looked wrong.

“Where’s her sticks,” Steven ked.

“Sticks?”

“A pair of PR-24’s. You know, standard issue night sticks. Roxanne keeps them on the umbrella stand. They are not there.” Steven pointed at the umbrella stand.

“I know what they are. There weren’t any found while I was first here. Find any since I left?” Deputy Poulson turned to the officer with the camera.

“We have not found any,” she replied from behind the camera. “But we have not moved anything since you left, either. Shall we proceed?”

They stepped over Roxanne’s bag and entered the living room. The furniture was all pushed to the outer walls, much overturned. One of the French Doors to the backyard was broken from the outside, the glass still on the floor. Some rocks and lines of sand formed an octagon in the middle of the room.

Steven looked it over. “What a mess. Why is this all pushed back? What is that junk on the floor?”

The female deputy spoke up. “The lab is analyzing it; we guess its normal sand. Is anything obviously missing?”

Steven scanned the walls and piles of stuff. The crossed M-16s were still over the fireplace. Many other things on the walls still where they belonged, the shelves and pictures relatively undisturbed. “No. Knocked down, tossed about, a few things broken. But nothing apparently missing.”

Steven turned right and went past the top of the stairs and down the hall; the bathroom straight ahead looked fine. Turning the corner Police Tape was stretched across each door. First, Diana’s room on the left, there’s her book bag. The bed had been tossed aside, making a mess of her desk. The closet was closed.

Deputy Poulson spoke. “Looks like she was underneath it, and they tossed it aside to get her.”

They went down the hall further to the next left, into Alex’s room. His book bag was under his bed, also tossed aside, and his closet was open.

Steven sighed loudly, shaking his head. They went to the last door across from Alex’s.

“That door is locked, we can’t get in.” It showed it had been dusted, as had most surfaces.

Steven pulled out his keys, unlocked and opened the door. “Of course it is. Rox and I don’t like the kids coming in uninvited.” The room was undisturbed. Steven unholstered his gun, and put it onto the bed, followed by the magazines. “Nothing here.”

Steven herded the deputies back out, closing the door, but not locking it. “Let’s go check the rest. Are your lab people done?”

“Pretty much, they have already left; unless you discover something as you clean up.”

“Fine. Let’s check downstairs first.” Steven herded the two deputies back out.

Everything downstairs appeared untouched. Steven noticed that things had been lightly dusted.

Deputy Poulson noticed Steven noticing. “Evidently nobody got down here.”

Steven nodded, tested all the locked doors, and checked the library and storage room. Both rooms were undisturbed.

As they went back upstairs, Steven started rambling. “I’m only slightly surprised that there were no gunshots. Rox never liked to shoot. She’s good, but preferred her martial arts, or her bow. All the guns are still where they should be. You’ve dusted for prints, obviously.”

“Yes. Near as we can tell from their trails, they were not interested in anything but the kids. Do you have some photographs of them that we could have? Of your wife as well?”

“Yeah. I can also get you some copies of their physical descriptions. They were done last fall, but they should be accurate enough.”

Steven went back down stairs and into the library. After warming up the computer, he printed out the last files for each child and Roxanne. He printed the latest pictures with them. Once printed, Steven took the deputies back upstairs.

Leticia showed up at that point, with Mrs. Winchel in tow. Leticia handed Steven his car keys, and told him that if he needed anything to call her. She then left. Mrs. Winchel occupied the kitchen, having prepared a casserole and some vegetables for dinner. She made some juice to go with it.

Steven went out back, the deputies in tow. They found the dogs where they lay, slaughtered and outlined. Steven grimaced a bit. This bit of the yard looked like the dogs put up a bit of a fight.

“These fully documented?” Steven motioned to the dogs.

“Yes, but the forensics team wants to ultrasound the wounds to more accurately determine the kind of knife used. They should have been here already. Something must have held them up.” The female Deputy replied as she turned off the camera.

Mrs. Winchel called them in for dinner right then.

She served herself and sat, leaving the food buffet style for the rest who help themselves as they continue working.

The deputies looked at the utensils. “Well, they can’t have been after property. These are real silver.”

Steven dropped his fork and finally broke down.

“Sorry,” the female deputy muttered.

Steven didn’t finish his meal. He got up and righted his easy chair. Then he set the end table next to it right, and set the phone on it. He hung it up and then picked it up and got a dial tone. He then called his brother. Then his sister. Neither one answered, so he left messages. Next he called Roxanne’s parents and left a message on their machine.

As Steven worked the phone, the female deputy left. Mrs. Winchel stayed and cleaned up the dinner, then washed the dishes. Once done with them, she excused herself and left.

Deputy Poulson helped Steven put some plastic sheeting over the broken door, and clean up the glass. They had the pile together when there was a knock at the door. Both men went to answer it, Steven still in some shock, Deputy Poulson on edge.

017 - Everyone Acting Their Part

Steven looked through the peephole. “I don’t know this guy.”

Deputy Poulson looks through. “Oh no.” He sounded a bit put off. “Why one of them? And how did he find out?” He turned to Steven. “It’s probably a private investigator.” He walked away from the door.

Steven shrugged then opened the door, looking down to the man standing there. “Can I help you?”

The man looked Steven over a moment. “Yes; and I can probably help you much more. May I come in?”

Steven looked back at the deputy, who just rolled his eyes, and turned back into the living room.

Steven opened the door. “Come in.”

The short man dressed in a long over coat, probably with a suit underneath, with expensive looking shoes. His sandy brown hair was cut short enough that he could not comb it straight if he wanted. Like most people, he stood shorter than Steven, but to Steven he looked like he worked out a bit. But something about the set of his features connected to a level of personal confidence Steven had not often encountered since leaving the corps.

The man put his hands in his pockets and walked past Steven, looked briefly at Rox’s gym bag still where she had dropped it, and went into the living room. Steven locked the door, and followed. Deputy Poulson was standing by the fireplace, leaning on the mantel.

The PI looked at the room, his gaze lingering on the stones and sand, which had not yet been cleaned up. “Why did they bother with that?” Suddenly he looked up, realizing he had spoken aloud. “Excuse me a moment.”

He pulled his hands out of his pockets. At the same moment Deputy Poulson’s hand went to rest openly on his belt. Steven just moved to sit in his chair, where he could watch these two men. The deputy maintained a steady gaze of daggers at the PI.

For his part, the PI was now ignoring Deputy Poulson. Instead he concentrated on a large glass marble in his right hand, and was muttering under his breath. He moved to the sand on the floor, and still muttering, he pinched some up and sprinkled it on the marble. As he stood up, the marble began to glow like a light bulb. It floated above his palm a moment, then flashed and disappeared.

Deputy Poulson almost cleared leather at that point, while blinking to clear his eyes. Steven was also blinking hard.

The PI looked at Steven.

“Sorry about that. I’m used to people being aware of the flash. Now, in a few moments we will see what happened here this afternoon.” The P.I. spoke as he stood up.

Deputy Poulson was all but growling. “We already know what happened. Who are you, and who sent you?”

“Too right, introductions are in order.” He wagged his finger in emphasis, as he acknowledged the deputy’s existence. “I am an investigator working with Judge Alistare Kevan. He has had me following up on an organized crime syndicate. And it looks like they decided to target your family, Mr. Caplan.”

Caspian was glad that he had taken the time to call Alistare. Between them they had been able to develop a cover story, which Caspian now followed to its letter.

Steven did not say anything, preferring to let Deputy Poulson cross swords. One thing he immediately noticed was that this private investigator spoke very formally in tone, but picked his words as if not quite sure of the language. And his accent most definitely was not local or even western U.S.A.

“Organized Crime? Why would they be interested in Mr. Caplan? I have never heard of that Judge. How would he have jurisdiction to send you, especially as this only happened this afternoon? What was that you just did anyway?” Deputy Poulson had to all but bite his tongue before speaking too much.

“They weren’t interested in Mr. Caplan, just his children. Judge Kevan is over in Sacramento. And I just did something that will allow us to see precisely what happened in this room from the moment that sand entered it.” He waved off all of Deputy Poulson’s questions as if they were so many feathers thrown at him. After considering the deputy a moment, the PI chose to ignore him from that point on. Instead, he just looked around the room.

“If you followed them into the area, why did you not alert local law enforcement?” His dislike was growing by the moment. But he had pulled his hand away from his gun.

Steven finally piped up, when it became clear that the PI was not going to talk to Deputy Poulson. “What do they want with my kids, and did they take my wife?”

The PI took a deep breath and blew it out, deciding what to say. “The first I can only guess at. I know that they aren’t after money. They would have left some kind of card. They want the kids themselves for something. As to your wife, we will just have to wait and see.” He looked around, and opened his overcoat. “Could I have a drink of water?”

Steven got up, walked around to the kitchen, and got a glass from the dish drainer. Then some ice water from the front of the fridge. The PI followed, and looked interestedly at the kitchen. He seemed to be taking in all that was there.

“Does you wife use any steel utensils in her cooking?” He looked at the leather wrapped handle of a large knife in the knife block with all the other kitchen knives.

Steven looked at the kitchen as he handed the glass to the PI. The copper pots stacked in their shelves. The copper and glass pans next to them. The copper and wood cooking stuff hanging from the stove hood. Steven frowned and looked at the PI. “Only her carving set. And she’s been looking for a good ceramic one. Why?”

“Just curious. The silver, here. The china over in its cabinet. Nothing here with any iron in it, except the carving set.” The PI waved his hand at each point and object as he mentioned it. The knife handles sticking out of the block held his attention for a moment longer. One handle was much larger and completely out of place. He then drew into himself for a moment, drained the glass, and set it back on the counter. “No plastic, either.” He then went back into the living room.

Steven noticed that his hands were rough, from lots of manual work. And his stride was strong and noiseless. Even over the squeaky floorboard.

Steven went back into the living room. The PI had taken his coat off, and dropped it across the end of the overturned couch. He wore a nice suit, which looked new. Steven glanced at the shoes again. They also looked new.

Who is this guy, and what is he waiting for, Steven thought to himself. “What’s your name anyway?”

The PI had been gazing absently at nothing and started when Steven spoke. He turned, smiled, and put out his hand. “Caspian.”

Steven took his hand, and gave it a testing squeeze.

Caspian did not break his smile. He just squeezed back, his look becoming amused. “I see you keep in shape. Good.” Their grips tightened, their hands slowly turning white.

Caspian smiled, broke the grip, and turned back to absently looking over the room, putting his hands in his coat pockets. Steven thought this odd; most men he knew who wore suits would put their hands in their trouser pockets, under the coat hem.

Steven lowered his hand and looked at Deputy Poulson who had not moved from the fireplace. He then went back to his chair and was just sitting in it when the light in the room strobed.

“Here we go. Now watch carefully.” Caspian had pulled his hands from his pockets and put them on the couch base leaning over in excitement.

Steven felt his skin begin to goose bump. Deputy Poulson who had been glaring at nothing in Caspian’s direction also reacted as if mildly shocked, and looked around.

The room flickered once more and a globe of white light floated where the marble had last been. Suddenly the globe expanded to fill the room, and all the furniture went into a kind of double image.

It looked solid where it had been for the last while, and ghostly where it appeared as the light filled the room. The images of the furniture and stuff was where it belonged. Movement by the front hall caught their attention.

They turned to see Alex and Diana chase each other into the hall to the bedrooms. The images disappeared as soon as they left the room.

“What’s happening here?” Steven asked, as he stood up to go see where the kids went.

Caspian spoke, getting his attention. “We are watching a replay of what happened here. Right there are your two kidnappers. Take a good look constable.” He pointed at the already smashed door being forced open, and two men walked in.

Deputy Poulson looked at them disbelieving. “This has got to be some kind of hologram or hallucination. What are you trying to put over on us?”

The two were dressed in black trousers and bloused shirts. They also wore leather boots, gauntlets, and vests. The shorter one came in first. He had short cut black hair, and almost nondescript features. He was carrying a bag over his shoulder. From this, he got out two handkerchiefs. The larger one looked almost over built, with a bushy beard, dark brown hair, and a nose that had been broken more than once. Each carried belt knives, and short swords. The larger had an ax across his back, the shorter a bow and arrows in a closed quiver. They lunged across the room. Three heads turned to watch, as the kids again ran out of the room and down the hall.

Steven tried to follow, but there was nothing to see. He missed seeing the housebreakers walk right through him. Shortly the burly fellow walked back with a limp Diana in his arms. He walked right through Steven and back into the living room. Steven turned to follow, when the other walked through him and put Alex on the floor in the middle of the room, next to Diana. The two men then began tossing the furniture aside, starting with his chair. It was eerie watching this happen without any sound.

They picked up the coffee table and dumped it on the couch nearer the outer wall, then picked up the front of the couch, and tipped it on its back. As the image went, it merged onto the solid one, giving it a kind of intensity.

Deputy Poulson turned and looked at Steven’s right, where Roxanne was standing. She dumped her bag off her shoulder, and went back into the front hall. She returned a moment later, with a stick in each hand, and kicked the small guy in the chest as he came at her. He collapsed onto the over turned easy chair. She then began to lay into the big guy. He was shorter than she was, but about twice as wide. She backed him up between the bookshelves and the couch. She was trying to get him open for a good body hit, but he kept blocking with his arms. He caught the sticks, and pulled them out of her hands, just as the smaller guy came behind her and put a handkerchief over her mouth and nose. She collapsed almost instantly.

“Good form and plenty of talent. But she isn’t playing for keeps, or she would have gone for his throat.” Caspian spoke as they dropped her over the second couch, to roll off and land next to Diana.

The big guy dropped the sticks and then helped the little guy turn that couch onto its back. Where it had not yet been moved from. The little guy disappeared into the front hall, kicking Rox’s bag into it as he went.

The big guy pushed and piled the furniture around as the little guy returned, got a jar from his bag, and a handful of rocks. Last, he pulled a compass.

“Of course, he has to find north with this setup.”

Steven and Deputy Poulson both looked at Caspian, neither comprehending.

The eight stones were laid out, north, south, east, west, then the rest regularly spaced. The little guy then poured the sand from the jar between each stone. He waited for the big guy to step inside before closing the octagon. The little guy stepped over the bodies to stand at the north end, the big guy at the south. The little guy took the scroll that the big guy had pulled from the bag, and read from it. Suddenly the stones strobed and the sand crackled with energy. This built to a blinding flash, and everything inside the octagon was gone.

Caspian reached out to the floating ball of light and spoke a word in some bizarre sounding language. The ball flashed, and all the images disappeared. Caspian put the marble back in his pocket.

018 - Arguments, A Departure, And Revelations

 “O.K. Constable, where did they go?” Caspian looked too smug.

Steven still couldn’t register all he had just watched. So he went to the couch that had not yet been righted. He lifted up the back and righted it. He then picked up two things that stopped the deputy.

“Here’s her sticks, right where that guy dropped them.”

“We will need to dust them for prints.” Deputy Poulson was trying to take control of the situation back. “Find out if any of the prints match the…”

“Come on constable. You saw those guys were wearing gloves.” Caspian still looked smug, but had toned it down a bit. “You aren’t going to get any prints from those that don’t belong to this house.”

“Mr. Caplan. Neither this constable nor a hundred like him can help you get your family back. They are beyond the reach of any law enforcement agency of this world. But not my reach. All I ask is your unconditional trust for one day. I know exactly who did this, and how, and where they are going to go.”

Deputy Poulson interrupted. “Where, and how? We can put out an Amber Alert, get road blocks and check points set up.” The deputy finally produced a notebook, ready to get things organized. “Or are you in league with these people? Is that how you set up this hologram, or what ever it was?”

Caspian looked sidelong at Deputy Poulson, and shook his head. “You just don’t get it. You want to set a roadblock up? Try blocking off the magnetic field of this planet, you might catch them as they teleport off it. In the mean time, Mister Caplan, you have a choice to make. Stay here, do nothing, and run the risk of not ever seeing your family again. Or, come with me and try to get them back. It’s that simple.”

“Go with you where?” Steven was finally finding his tongue again.

“After them. I can tell you more as we go, but not until you commit.”

Deputy Poulson had enough. “Don’t listen to him Mr. Caplan. This kook is this far from my hauling him in.”

Steven sat down, to think things through. But just as he got settled, the phone rang. Steven pulled himself back out of his chair, and went into the kitchen. He picked up the phone there before the voicemail took over.

“Hello? Hi Margot.”

Deputy Poulson gently put the receiver he had picked up back down by the chair, not wanting to eavesdrop on a private conversation.

“Yes, it’s true . . . I’m not sure what I’m going to do about it . . . A sheriff deputy and some guy claiming to be some kind of investigator . . . I think he mentioned that judge. Just a moment.” Steven came back from the kitchen, phone in hand, and looked at Caspian.

“What was the name of that judge you said you worked for?”

“Alistare Kevan. Of Sacramento.” Caspian was relieved that Roxanne’s mother had called. It meant that the Judge had been in contact with her, and told her the bare facts already.

Steven put the phone back to his ear and went back into the kitchen. “Mom? He says it’s that judge… You think so?.. You’re sure about that? He seems kind of like a kook to me… If you say so… Love you to. Talk to you more later… Bye.” Steven hung up the phone and returned to the living room. He looked Caspian over again, and then turned to Deputy Poulson, making a decision.

“Deputy, is there anything else you need this evening?” Steven looked at him in earnest.

“Just to be sure you’re safe.”

“I think I can take care of myself. You can go.”

Deputy Poulson was not sure what to say.

There was a knock on the door. Steven looked out the window. A county truck was in the driveway.

“Looks like your lab boys. Probably here for the dogs.” Steven crossed the kitchen, and into the front hall. It was the lab people.

Steven showed them through to the back yard, and pointed out the gate to them. One went back to the truck as the other took a few more pictures. Steven left them at their business.

He looked again at the deputy, his conversation with his mother-in-law still echoing in his ears. Caspian was sitting on the couch, sipping a new glass of water. Evidently, one or the other of the two had righted the last chairs and loveseat. Steven did not care which one.

“Deputy, unless you need to stay for someone, you can go when your lab people do.”

Steven crossed the room, and picked up Rox’s bag. He then took it into the bedroom, and dumped it into the laundry. He put the bag away in the closet.

Steven then picked up the gun from his bed, ejected the magazine onto the bed, and racked the slide sending that round flipping onto the floor. He put a snap-cap in, closed the gun, pulled the trigger to relax the springs in it, and put it back into the holster at his belt. He then unbuckled his belt and pulled it part way off, pulled his gun and holster out of his waistband and put it on the bed. He pulled the belt further, removing his leatherman and the magazine holder. Dropping the belt on the bed, he scoped up the magazines and loose round, and put them and the gun in a small gun safe in the closet, and closed and locked it.

Next was his luggage. He found it where he expected, in the trunk of his car. First, he pulled the car into the garage. Then he dropped the luggage through the door to the house. Next was Rox’s truck.

Steven had ordered some camera equipment online. Rox had come home a bit late because she went to go get it from the store. Steven found the boxes when he moved the truck. He felt a bit guilty for Rox not being home sooner. He parked the truck in its spot, and checked it for anything that might be out of place. But nothing was. He set the boxes in the house.

Finished in the garage, he closed it, and took his luggage back to his room. Deputy Poulson was still radiating hostility at Caspian. Steven just walked past. After dumping the laundry, and storing the rest, he went back to the living room.

Steven looked at Deputy Poulson. “Why are you still here?”

“In case you need anything.” Deputy Poulson looked at Caspian as he said this.

“This is private property, and I have invited you to leave.” Steven’s natural dislike for police officers was beginning to show as active irritation. “Or are you suspicious of something?”

Deputy Poulson was not happy. “Call me in the morning.” He handed Steven a card from his wallet.

Steven took the card, and followed him to the front door. He then locked it behind Deputy Poulson, and went back to the living room. Caspian had put the coffee table back, and was sorting books onto it.

Steven looked at Caspian. “Who are you really, and why would my mother-in-law tell me to trust you unconditionally? And don’t just say an investigator. That thing with the glass ball says that there is more.”

Caspian moved to the fireplace, and picked up the digital recorder that had been left there, turned on, by Deputy Poulson. Caspian contemplated it as he spoke. “I am in pursuit of the men that kidnapped your kids. I was sent by some relatives of your wife to safeguard her. So far, I am not doing a very good job. However with your help I think we can get them all back, but we need to move quickly.” He put the device back on the mantle, turning it off.

“You will need some food, water, a bedroll, and a change of clothes. Pack light but comfortably. It is early spring where we are going, so bring some warm clothes. We will be on foot much of the time, and will need to move fast. Also, bring any gold or jewels you can part with, to use for money. The paper of this world is useless there. Leave everything else behind. Anything you can’t bear to part with, leave here. Wedding rings, heirlooms, anything.”

Steven snorted. “Sure. What’s your game? How is Rox’s mom in this? What’s in this for you?”

Caspian looked at him in a sobering glance. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’m here to help. I’m going to try to get your kids back with or without you. But I guess you need convincing. All right, try this…” Caspian picked up his coat, stepped to the middle of the room, and spoke in another language.

The spell worked in a flash, and Caspian was finally comfortable in his own clothes. He adjusted his belt and robe to place, their familiar weight a comfort compared to Steven’s unfriendly looks. He had not expected to expend energy this way. But it seemed to be needed to convince him. Now for the last part. If the beast was listening.

“Cyrril.”

On command, a creature a bit larger than a cat and looking like a dragon teleported in, carrying a staff. Caspian held out his hands, and it fluttered to drop the staff into his grasp. The little dragon then chittered as he climbed to Caspian’s shoulder, tail wrapping around his master’s neck. Cyrril then surveyed the rest of the room, in detached interest. There being no other threat, and no food, he turned to emphasizing Caspian’s actions and movements.

Caspian turned the staff upright, the carved head of it taller than he was. It almost hit the hanging light. Steven fixated on Cyrril. No surprise as he was not native to this world.

Better move things along, Caspian thought.

“Now then. As I said, my name is Caspian. I am an itinerant mage, general practitioner, and student of magic. And I am your guide to retrieve your children. Are you going to come willingly, or do I need to just scoop you up and take you?”

The telephone broke Steven’s stupor. He picked it up after it rang three times.

“Hello… Yes, we are just fine . . . No, you don’t need to call the Police again . . . This man is a, uh, Private Investigator… No, everything is just fine. You can come over if you think you need to… All right. Talk to you some more later. Bye.”

Steven put the phone down. “Mrs. Winchel wants to know if I’m all right with you in the house.” Steven ran his hand through his hair and sighed, shoulders dropping. “That woman….”

Evidently a neighborhood busy body, and someone familiar to him, Caspian thought to himself.

“What do you want me to take?” Steven seemed to be tractable.

“Anything you can stand to part with. Leave behind anything you cannot bear to loose. Also leave behind any firearms and battery powered things you plan on bringing. They will only end up causing you trouble. And you will not be able to recharge them.”

“Where on earth are we going that is that remote?” Steven could not think of anywhere that remote.

“We aren’t staying on Earth. Quickly now. We are loosing precious time to catch up before something dire happens.”

Steven could tell that the man believed in what he said. Margot said to trust him. The trick with the clothes, and the little creature… It was not any animal he had seen before, outside of a fantasy movie. So, Steven decided he had a choice. Humor this stranger, or trust the police. Both were equally unpalatable, but at least this man offered something to do.

019 - Packing, Repacking, Finally Something To Take Serious

Steven went into the bedroom, leaving Caspian in the living room. He pulled his shirt off, and tossed it into the laundry basket in the closet. His mood seemed to lighten with it off. He continued to undress the rest of the way, changing into more comfortable and durable clothes.

Steven put his hands to his hips, and glared at the walls, thinking. If he isn’t genuine, what is Caspian?

He decided to pack, and see what happened. If Caspian was what he claimed, he may just be able to help. And it sure beats doing nothing. Steven commenced to pile on the bed all the things he normally took camping.

Steven dressed in hiking boots, BDU trousers, a tee shirt, a sweat shirt, his long coat, and custom rucksack.

While waiting for Steven, Caspian picked up the last of the books and stacked them on the short table. He then looked over the bookshelves and mantle. Plenty of things to look at here. On the left were Steven’s military paraphernalia, including an old portrait of him in Marine Dress Blues. Next to this was a deep picture frame with several patches and medals mounted in it. The next shelf was Roxanne’s martial arts trophies, and an old archery trophy, some pictures of her family, and some hand made items. Diana’s shelf was next, with some small trophies, and some odds and ends. Alex’s has a single trophy, and a 2-point rack of antlers, among some school things.

The rest of the shelves were full of books. Many of the titles were familiar from Caspian’s two years in school here. Many more were not familiar. In the time spent here, he had sampled the ‘great’ literature of this world. As with everything else, ‘great’ was quickly found to be subjective.

Cyrril left his shoulder at this point and settled among the bric-a-brac and pictures on the mantle.

Caspian browsed a book reading snippets here and there. Then put it back as Steven came back from the bedroom. Caspian was not sure where things were going to go from here. But a positive outlook would certainly help.

Steven spent the next hour proceeding through the house in an orderly manor gathering and packing what he wanted to take. They would need to travel as quickly and nondescript as they could. As such some of what Steven started with Caspian had to veto. Steven had first brought Rox’s camping/outdoor costume and laid it out to pack. Their sleeping bags were a sure giveaway as being strange, and too bulky to carry more than one.

“Have you got a bottomless bag to put these in to?” Steven was half serious as he asked this, testing Caspian.

“No. I don’t carry enough stuff to need one. And they are a lot of needless trouble to make.” Caspian responded.

Steven got some old blankets from storage and made a bedroll from these. Caspian mentioned again to Steven that where they were going batteries would not be available for anything. So more things were left behind. Most of Roxanne’s costume got left behind, as well as the kid’s clothes. Caspian further recommended Steven bring only one change of clothes for himself. If he wanted more, they could get it along the way.

Buy the time all was ready he had repacked most of the stuff twice. Steven ended up with camp food, a mess kit, a notebook and two wooden pencils, and some water bags, along with his fancy rucksack. A single change of clothes and a few changes of underwear. A few hard items: matches, some light rope, good knives, a pocket tool and bag full of rings, necklaces, and earrings. Caspian also had him bring each person socks and underwear, and a shirt and trousers for Rox. All of this was stuffed into the rucksack, the bedroll in a waterproof sack tied to it, and Steven’s entrenching tool secured to the back.

Caspian checked the sky, and saw that they had time. It was now dark out, with the moon starting up the east horizon. “Before we go, we better have something more to eat.”

Steven was still uncomfortable with all this, but was willing to go along. While he made them a quick snack, he finally started to talk to Caspian, as opposed to at him.

Caspian sat at the bar between the informal dining room and the kitchen, watching and helping some. He noticed again that all the cookware was copper, wood, or glass. No plastic. The kitchen knives were the only iron products in evidence. One of the knives was obviously not part of the set. The handle looked more like that of a fighting knife, with a short crossbar. Looking around the kitchen and dining room he noticed that all the dishes and mugs were stone wear or china. The glasses and tumblers, crystal. The utensils were of sliver. Much of it looked to be older than Steven, or Caspian.

Steven got Caspian’s attention, as he pulled the odd knife from the knife block. The blade was thick, and looked well sharpened. He put it into a sheath on his belt, and snapped a restraining loop closed. It was obviously a fighting knife that was used domestically.

“How long are we going to be gone, and just where are we going?”

“I’m not sure how long. I think a few weeks at least. We will need to catch up with the kidnappers, and get your wife and children. Then we will need to get away to somewhere safe, and figure out what to do from there. Because of the situation, the kidnappers will not stop until they have your kids where they can control and raise them.”

“This nightmare just keeps getting better. You really can’t tell me how long.”

“No, I can’t.”

Steven grunted. “And you can’t tell me where we are going?”

“You saw how they left? We will be going in a similar fashion. First to a place in the mountains north and west of where we are here. Then much farther away.”

Steven turned to the telephone and made several phone calls. Contrary to his reaction to Mrs. Winchel earlier, he called her and asked her to keep a watch on the house, and move the vehicles around. He called his work and left notice that he was going with a Detective to look for his kids, and to spread word to anybody else that called. Steven also asked them to collect his mail and bills, and dispose of it accordingly. He then called and had the phone forwarded to his work, and unplugged it.

The dinner consisted of sandwiches and soup. Without being told, Steven had fixed a completely bland meal; perfect for the trip they were about to take. He cleaned the dishes, and put them away. Steven then went through the house one more time, securing everything. Caspian just waited in the living room until all was ready.

“If we are ready, there is one thing to do before going.” Caspian said.

Steven stood by the couch where the stuff was piled, watching.

“Cyrril. Wake up, you lazy beast.”

Cyrril got up, much like a cat might, and then leapt to Caspian’s shoulder. Taking his staff in hand, he looked around.

“Where is the heart of your house, where you spend most of your time?”

“Right here, really, or in the kitchen.” Steven did not even look around.

Caspian stretched out, testing the energy of the place. Then moved to the most neutral place he could, between all the focus points. He then drew an octagram on the floor. Around that he drew a triangle pointing to the three major focuses. Finally, Caspian began chanting to organize the energy. As he did this, little bits of stuff were put in their appropriate places on the diagram. Steven looked dubious.

Caspian felt the energy organize and snap into place. That done, he knew they had a limited time before it fully coalesced and organized. At that point he would need to dismantle it to teleport out.

“What did you just do?”

“I placed a spell that will protect your house from uninvited guests.” He collected his bits of stuff, that which had not disintegrated, and then looked at Steven. “Shall we go?”

Steven looked at Caspian coolly. “Yeah.” He took his pack and started to the garage.

Caspian headed to the back door. “We best leave by your backyard. Trying to go by car will be useless, and attract more trouble than it is worth.”

Steven looked more dubious, but complied.

They went out the door and locked it. Caspian sensed the yard, and then stepped to a spot that felt strongest. He then stood at the cardinal point of the triangle he was going to use.

“Now, if you will stand here, we can begin our journey.” He pointed where he wanted Steven with the staff, at the other end of the triangle. Steven looked sheepish. As if he were entertaining a lunatic, but had about reached his limit. Caspian knew they had to go quickly, as he could feel the shield energizing. As soon as Steven was in position, Caspian started.

First he traced the triangle, and then began the pattern to carry them to the local stone circle, chanting as he did. He did it once and set the pattern. A second time to energize it. Steven was about to move away in disgust and break the pattern. But Caspian completed the pattern, and felt it ready to release. He placed the staff into the heart of the energy he had organized, and spoke the final phrase three times.

The matrix formed, expanded and swept them in, then collapsed and broke through the barriers of distance and matter. It looked for a moment to Steven like they were being drawn into the same point of space.

Steven did not have time to fear. He felt a sudden jolt run through him front to back, and then a hard push from behind shove him into the middle, and the staff got incredibly large for an instant. His direction of movement changed, and went up the staff, and into the sky, in an arc. He could only sense his body being compressed as he went. He could not look around, but thought he could see the Carson Valley disappear below him, as they went up. The western most Sierras dropped away, taking Lake Tahoe with, as they climbed, and angled over the mountains. He tipped over, and as rapidly as it went, the ground returned, somewhere in the central northern Sierra. He stopped just short of the ground, and felt the compressed sensation cease as the staff was suddenly back, and he rushed away from it.

They stood in a clearing of trees, for a moment. Then all Steven’s strength left his frame, and he collapsed.

Caspian was the first to recover. Cyrril was a bit miffed, but clinging to his shoulders. Steven had passed out. First, Caspian scratched a circle around the clearing they were in with the end of his staff, and then he placed a barrier, to keep uninvited things out. Steven was coming around as he finished. Caspian noted this, and set about collecting the rocks and sticks within his barrier to build a fire. This close to a ley line, he could feel his mana begin to replenish.

Caspian turned to Steven. “We will rest here tonight. In the morning, we will set out.”

Steven was not feeling awake enough to argue.

Caspian had decided to leave the rental car at the Caplan’s, and had told Alistare such. When he changed clothes, the keys, phone, and wallet, all went with. They were at the Judge’s house. He would have to take care of it.

020 - First Day On An Adventure

Upon their return to the high mountain circle, members of the caravan helped the Spy and Warrior just in from Terra, binding hands and feet of the unconscious woman and children in the process. It was late afternoon, but they descend to the valley camp, carrying the bound three. From there the Wizard opened a gate to the base camp near the village.

The leader of the caravan decided that they did not need the woman, Roxanne, and having her with could be a liability. They bound her arms in front and her legs so that she can be tripped up, but otherwise walk. The party leader announced that the next morning the Spy and the Wizard would sell her to a slave trader, posing as merchants. Then the caravan would head south.

The Spy and Wizard teleported to a village, with Rox in bonds between them. The caravan had been through this village a few days prior, to restock, so the wizard knew it to land here. The teleporting was a terrific strain on Rox, so she was nearly out. But she was quickly regaining her composure. Her leash was held by the wizard as the Spy approached a larger man. After a bit of talk, the two men walked back. Rox looked around her.

Her gym clothes were drastically out of place. They were in the square of a town, next to a market full of wagons and booths. Nothing was paved. The people all looked like refugees from a SCA meeting. What kept getting to her was that it all looked functionally real.

She had gotten home to find two home invaders with her children in their hands. She had gone as mamma-bear as she thought she knew. But then she was waking up in the wilderness, with her arms and legs bound, her children no where that she could see. She tried to speak but could make no sound. She was bound to a wagon, with people around the area conversing in an unknown language. Then the sneaky shrimp and some other man had come and taken her leash in hand. Now she was standing somewhere else, the wagon and woods gone.

The sneaky shrimp in black and the larger man approached, and seemed to be haggling. The wizard pulled Rox to her feet. An awkward task as Rox felt heavier than normal, and stood a head taller than the wizard. Her equilibrium was on edge, due to the shock of repeated recent teleportation.

The larger man looked well groomed, if a bit day-worn from being outside all day. He was well built, but older, with his hair tied back into a tail. His face looked honest, if a bit weathered. The two talked a bit, and then the man began to prod and poke at Rox.

She tried to slap his hands away, but was leashed in by the wizard, and all but yanked off her feet. The bindings on her wrists bit as they pulled her hands to the collar on her neck. The wizard grabbed her shoulder and squeezed and said something. She suddenly felt herself relax, and stand. And try as she might, she could not make her body do anything.

The well groomed man then resumed his inspection. He was evidently expert at his craft, and did not waste much time. Nor did he violate her beyond the inspection itself. The wizard let go of her shoulder, and she felt control return slowly. She watched money be exchanged, and her leash was given to the well groomed man. The wizard and the shrimp then teleported away in a swirl of dust.

The well groomed man was stern, but patient, as he led Rox over to his wagons. He had several large awnings set up over his wagons. One of the larger wagons was a cage. Next to this sat a pen with four naked people in it. A woman came over and helped the man undress Rox, being careful to always have one or the other holding the leash.

Rox grasped immediately what was going on. She was now property.

Her wedding bands and stud-earrings were taken from her. Rox tried to resist the taking of her wedding ring, but the leash was pulled tight, and the woman held her as the man carefully worked the rings off her fingers. The bands on her arms and legs were the last things removed after the rest of her clothes had been taken. Rox never saw those clothes again. She was then pushed into the cage. The air felt cool and moist but she soon acclimated. The spell that had inhibited her finally dissipated about lunch time. When her disorientation completely cleared she held on to a measure of dignity, as she had nothing else. Lunch was little more than a subsistence level meal of some kind of bread, and water, it left her still hungry, and sat heavy as her body adjusted to the quality of the food, and she was ravenously thirsty. Fortunately there was a well close enough that she could reach, and was able to help herself to, and a slop bucket to relieve herself in at the other end of the cage.

The other four slaves regarded her with mild interest at the start, but made no move to get to know her. As the afternoon wound on, and she moved about, the oldest of the four, another woman, watched with growing hostility. Finally this woman gathered the other three and spoke quickly at them in their language. Rox only picked up one word, as it was repeated by the others. “Schwaer.” They whispered it as if it was a curse, or something to fear. None of them made any attempt to get to know her after that. Or even to show her any kindness.

Rox did her best to rest, watching the market and listening to the language. Perhaps she could learn enough quickly enough to get by, once she got herself free. In the mean time she found two rocks to use. And she sat down on a spot of ground and started running through some lifting exercises. First one arm, with the small rock, then the other arm. Then after the full set of movements, she switched rocks, and repeated the sets with the larger rock. After that she moved to push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups.

She noticed that several people were interested in her. But as the haggling got along, the older woman slave would wander over and hiss the word “schwaer.” This would cause a bit of discussion, and end in the potential customer leaving and the slave-master squabbling with the slave woman.

Rox continued to work out, and slake her thirst. She finished by doing a range of pull-ups using the bars of the cage. She then paced the cage to get a feel of the size, and then moved to the center of one quadrant, and began running through several practice drills. The other slaves stayed on the far side of the cage, though the two boys watched with interest as she moved through the fighting moves.

At closing time, the Slaver and his wife had closed up shop. With the help of another person, upon which two of the four looked with disgust, they had packed the wagons, and hitched the teams. The caged wagon was backed up to the pen, and the five of them were loaded in. Another hour and the pen was disassembled, and stowed and they were on their way. They traveled until after dark. Rox noted that they were traveling through hill country.

As the temperature dropped, the slaves pulled some blankets from a box in the wagon, and wrapped up in them. Rox was not offered one, or prevented from getting one. Some time after dark the wagons were parked in a thicket, and camp was made. A drizzle rolled past, and then cleared. After dinner was cooked, a kettle of stew and a pan of bread were handed in to the slaves. This was divided evenly. It warmed Rox, and rejuvenated her some, but was not as filling as she might have prepared for herself.

She was taking stock of her situation, and had reached several conclusions. She was not crazy, or imagining this. She felt heavier than normal, but was quickly adjusting. She had been forcibly separated from her children and husband. Whoever had done this was eventually going to have to reckon for this. Now she had to observe her situation, orient to the problems and challenges, decide on a course of action, and act accordingly.

She noticed that while the people all seemed to be generally fit, at least according to her experience from working with people physically, they averaged a bit shorter and heavier than she expected. The tallest that she had seen, save for one, was nearly a head shorter than she was. Also they looked more muscled as an average than she was used to. Everybody was tanned from spending time outside, but the average skin color was significantly darker than her own, with darker shades of hair. With her pale skin, tall stance, lighter hair, and slim build, Roxanne could not have been of sharper contrast physically if she had wings.

*          *          *

Steven and Caspian arrived on Tywacomb about noon. The sun was just approaching its zenith. The lesser of the twin moons was pursuing the sun across the sky. They would have enough light to hike all the way down.

Steven could not decide if he was feeling jetlagged or drunk. He was unsure of his footing as they rested on the stones of the circle Caspian had left approximately a week prior. He looked around, and quickly realized they were not in the northern Sierra clearing they had first awakened in.

For his part, Caspian first rejuvenated his mana supply and very quickly got his equilibrium back. He felt very good being back on his native world. Cyrril slowly recovered, as his physiology did not take to ley line travel well.

Caspian did not waste much time looking around. “I don’t see them below.”

Steven only heard gibberish. “What?”

Caspian checked himself, and had to consciously think about which language he was speaking, and switched to English. “I reverted to my native language. First chance I get, I will help you with that.”

Steven looked around from the stone he sat on, and got his binoculars out. “Where are we?”

Steven did not get the binoculars up before noticing that the little light that said the camera was on and ready was not glowing. He held them to his eyes and looked around. He recognized terrain features and types, but nothing was remotely familiar for anywhere he had ever been.

Caspian seeing Steven scanning around looked down where he remembered the camp to be. He pointed. “Can you see if there is a camp in the valley below us, about there?”

Steven looked at where Caspian was pointing, and then held up the binoculars, zooming and focusing them. “I can see lots of scrub and rocks, maybe a few game trails… and where a camp was. Two fire pits, and lots of trampled brush.”

Caspian nodded, and pulled out his water skin and took a long drink. “Good eyes. That was the people who met the ones who kidnapped your family. Drink as much as you can. The way we traveled here dehydrates real fast. Are you able to walk yet?”

Steven sucked on the hose from his bag, and then looked back at and fiddled with his binoculars. Caspian nursed his water for a bit more watching, and letting the mana flow from the ley line recharge him, and his equipment. Cyrril was still sluggish. Finally he realized that Steven was trying to get a device to work.

“Steven, did that have a battery in it?”

Steven distractedly responded. “Yeah.”

“It won’t work then. The planetary teleport spell can carry anything over long distances, but it drains all chemical batteries in the process. I did tell you not to bring anything with those.”

Caspian watched in mild amusement as Steven pulled out his cell phone and checked it, then his frozen watch on his wrist, and then the device on the binoculars again. Steven then pulled what Caspian remembered as a camera out of a pouch, and attached a lens to it, and looked through it.

Steven spoke to himself. “The powered light meter is dead, but all the rest looks fine.” Steven aimed and pressed a button on the camera, causing it to click. He then worked a lever on the other side from the button, and took the lens and camera apart and put them away.

Normally, thanks to digital camera capacity, Steven was a bit of a shutter-bug taking pictures of everything. Now he only had 107 pictures, three 36-image rolls of film, which he could take with his manual camera. With the SLR camera he had two lenses with him; the standard-to-telephoto lens, and a wide-angle lens. Steven was annoyed that the battery powered light meter in the camera did not work. But he had been photographing enough that he felt he could work without it. He had thought of taking more pictures with the camera on his binoculars, but like his watch and the light meter in his SLR, that digital camera was completely lifeless.

Steven commented, mostly to himself. “Good thing I prefer manual cameras to the electronic ones.”

Caspian just looked on, and then stepped to the edge, and looked down the steep face of the mountain.

Steven joined him, sucking again at his drink tube, and then stopped. “We get to hike down that?”

Caspian looked sidelong as Steven. “We don’t have to. But it’s the easiest way.”

Caspian patted himself down, and checked his coat pockets, and then cursed in his native language.

Steven looked up. “What?”

“I left the tracking stone for finding your family in the coat I was wearing on your planet. I will have to make new ones. And I can’t do that right here.”

Steven had read enough fantasy fiction over the years to guess at what Caspian was saying. He could not dispute where they were or begin to argue how they got there, from his home. But he was still skeptical.

Caspian just started pacing about, and then stood back in the middle of the circle. “Come on. I will teleport us to where we can make a better start. I can begin to get the stuff to make some trackers; you can maybe get some local clothes and maybe a sword.”

Steven looked back at the climb, and then walked in to stand opposite Caspian, as he had in his back yard. “You know, this was not fun the last time.”

Caspian did not wait. Nor did he need to vocalize as much this time, having a stronger mana pool to draw from, and a clear idea where he was going. They landed at the head to the path leading out of the village Caspian had last visited before his hike to the circle. Again, Steven collapsed as he came to himself. Caspian caught him, and almost collapsed under his weight. He got Steven off the side of the trail, and put Cyrril who was likewise out cold on Steven’s chest, and then hiked into the village, and found the inn keeper. With that man’s help, and a wheelbarrow, they got Steven back to the inn, and into a bed.

After having supper, and making initial arrangements, Caspian also went to bed.