Chapter 1
TO: E. Coppersmith
SUBJECT: It’s late
FROM: Finder
You’re up late again. More problems with the Ghost City project?
Sincerely,
Finder
TO: Finder
SUBJECT: It’s very late
FROM: E. Coppersmith
The Ghost City project is presenting the usual challenges, most of which fall into one of the following two categories: SNAFU and FUBAR. (Sorry for using technical terms.) And it looks like I’m not the only one who is up late. It’s one o’clock in the morning. Am I interrupting anything?
Sincerely,
E. Coppersmith
TO: E. Coppersmith
SUBJECT: Nope
FROM: Finder
You’re not interrupting anything. A dream woke me up. I decided to do some work online. What’s your excuse?
Sincerely,
Finder
TO: Finder
SUBJECT: Your dreams
FROM: E. Coppersmith
Working here, too. I’d like to talk to you about your dreams. And I’d like to do that in person. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?
Sincerely,
E. Coppersmith
TO: E. Coppersmith
SUBJECT: Dinner
FROM: Finder
Thank you for the invitation to dinner. It is a very nice gesture but entirely unnecessary. I am glad that I was able to find your heirloom ring. You paid my fees. You don’t owe me anything else. Really.
Sincerely,
Finder
TO: Finder
SUBJECT: It’s not about the ring
FROM: E. Coppersmith
I’m an engineer. I do not make very nice but entirely unnecessary gestures. I am no longer a client. This is personal. I would like to take you to dinner.
Sincerely, but not nicely,
E. Coppersmith
TO: E. Coppersmith
SUBJECT: Bad dates
FROM: Finder
I have found that dates with clients generally don’t end well. Sooner or later it turns out that the client wants an off-the-books favor.
Cautiously,
Finder
TO: Finder
SUBJECT: What the hell?
FROM: E. Coppersmith
This isn’t about the damn ring. I told you, I’m no longer a client. Off-the-books?
Curiously,
E. Coppersmith
TO: E. Coppersmith
SUBJECT: Bad dates
FROM: Finder
Off-the-books, as in finding antiquities on the black market or missing-persons work. I never do the former and I try really, really hard to avoid the latter. Never ends well. Like dating clients.
Clarifying,
Finder
TO: Finder
SUBJECT: Just dinner
FROM: E. Coppersmith
I do my own black-market searches, and no one I know has gone missing. I just want to take you out to dinner tomorrow night.
Sincerely not a client,
E. Coppersmith
TO: E. Coppersmith
SUBJECT: Just dinner
FROM: Finder
Thank you. I would like to have dinner with you. My address is 15 Midnight Lane, Dark Zone, Illusion Town. I live in an apartment above my shop, Visions. Finding a specific address in this zone can be tricky. GPS and the mapping programs don’t work well. I can meet you at the restaurant, if that would be easier.
Sincerely,
Hannah
TO: Finder
SUBJECT: I’ll find you
FROM: E. Coppersmith
I’m an engineer. I’ll figure it out.
Good night,
Elias
The Coppersmith Mining headquarters of the Ghost City project was located several miles outside Illusion Town. The narrow two-lane highway cut through empty desert for the entire distance. Roadside signs promising flashy casinos, high-payout slot machines, and sexy shows appeared every couple of miles.
At the posted speed limit the drive took about forty minutes. A man behind the wheel of a Cadence could cover the distance in half an hour. A man driving a Cadence who was looking forward to an evening with an intriguing woman could do it in twenty-five minutes.
Elias Coppersmith was driving a hot, enhanced Cadence and he was making very, very good time because he was looking forward to meeting Hannah West in person.
For the first few weeks of their online connection he had known her only as the Finder. She specialized in locating missing, lost, or stolen antiquities in the murky underground world where secretive collectors bought and sold powerful relics and crystals. She dealt in hot crystals and he was a crystal engineer. He figured they had a few things in common.
When he contacted her two months ago, he hadn’t expected much. She was just one in a long line of experts he had consulted. But she had located the long-lost Coppersmith family heirloom within days. He had known then that she possessed some very powerful psychic abilities. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that she was a dreamlight talent.
Dreamlights were not uncommon. After all, everyone dreamed and, to some extent, everyone possessed some psychic ability. But most dreamlight psychics ranked at the lower end of the paranormal scale.
Powerful dreamlight talents were scarce and he was pretty sure he knew why. Para-psych researchers were convinced that strong dreamlights possessed unstable, fragile para-psych profiles.
Given the general consensus of the research community it seemed perfectly reasonable that very strong dreamlights would keep the extent of their abilities to themselves. No one wanted to be labeled unstable or fragile.
He knew a lot about keeping paranormal secrets. His family had kept a few for generations.
The online connection with Hannah had evolved quickly from a business relationship into something that he hoped was about to become much more personal.
Night fell fast in the desert. The glittering lights of the opulent casinos and hotels of Illusion Town had just come into view when Elias got the call. He would have ignored it but it was coming in on the frequency reserved for emergencies.
By the time the call from headquarters ended he knew that all of his carefully laid plans for the evening had just gone up in smoke.
So much for assuring Hannah West that their relationship was no longer a business affair.
Another sign came up in his headlights.
WELCOME TO ILLUSION TOWN.
THE THRILLS ARE REAL.