A Prison of Worlds (The Chained Worlds Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

users of various flavors and even now the
technologically oriented city threw me off if I paid too much attention to it. 
    I
turned my attention straight upward to see the various air cars, bikes, and scooters
flying high above the street.  At regular spacing, there were floating buoys
that acted as traffic beacons.  I used to love flying.
    Absently
fingering my chest where the runes lay under my shirt, I scowled at the hover
cars as I turned back to the house.  A faint humming sound swiftly grew behind
me reached the door.
    “Are
you the Professor?” A voice drifted from the lawn at my back and I hunched my shoulders. 
Damn, I hate it when Jeremy's right.
    Turning
around, I was somewhat surprised to see a fully uniformed police officer,
complete with rigid light body armor and automatic rifle.  “I have heard some
people calling me that.”  He didn't look hostile, just a bit officious.  The
armor couldn't be comfortable, even if the morning was relatively cool.  Yep,
looking closer, a fine sheen of sweat covered his brow.  Maybe the ‘advanced’
technology required for refrigerated armor was restricted to the military too.
    “Sorry
sir, I just had an address and a title.  We couldn't find your phone or vid
number,” the officer said pleasantly.  It didn't look like I was being arrested,
but heck if I knew what he wanted.
    “I
don't have a phone, er, working phone,” I said shrugging.  The police man just
looked at me like I was a madman.   Most of the people I know look at me the
same way.  I can't stand the things, always making weird noises just before
they vent a foul smelling gas.  I used to know some psychics that had a special
relationship with technology.  I am not one of them and never even tried to
develop such a thing.  I almost have to be in a meditative state to keep my
energies from interacting with the new chips.
    “Um,
right.” He seemed a bit flustered by my flat response.  “I am Officer
Cromwell.  Er... well, Lieutenant Monahan asked me to see if you'd mind
consulting on some crimes.”
    This
took me back a bit.  “Me?  I don't have any background in criminology.”
    “The
crimes involve magic, sir.”
    I
understood now.  It's not like the city didn't have its hidden magic users, it’s
just that most of them were very much like mystics or shamans.  They had an instinctive
knowledge on how to cast specific spells.  To learn more, they would meditate
and become ‘enlightened.’  Useless.  They had no idea how magic worked, just
how to contemplate their navel.  Perhaps that was harsh, but there was some
truth to it.  I couldn't cast verbal spells yet, but I knew magic, felt it in
my bones... and it didn't hurt to have lived in a city full of braggart mages. 
Damn, I missed them.
    So
basically the reason they needed me was very similar to why I was looking for
educated wizards.  If a crime involved magic then either a supernatural entity
committed it, a mystic did it, or a wizard did it.  Basically, they needed me
for my ‘academic’ reputation rather than my vigilante experience.  My mind
flashed back to my conversation just a few minutes ago.  A captured wizard
would leave books behind.  Surely the nice police officers wouldn't need all
those books.
    “Okay.”

Chapter
2
     
    The
air traffic was rather intense, and I assume there was no real time crunch,
because the officer only used his siren once to bypass the gridlocked air
cars.  I enjoy flying under my own power, but sitting in a ceramic and plasteel
can, surrounded by other floating boxes, was boring as hell.  I am trying to
keep a fairly low profile, but if I could still shapechange into something with
wings I would probably just shrug my shoulders and tell everyone I was a mutant
vampire, just to freely fly around.  There was an old cartoon about gargoyles; I
could have faked being one of them.  Some branches of my species can fly with
or without wings.  I ain't one of them.
    Still,
it