Cybermancer

Janet Elizabeth Chase

Narrator: Sisters, sisters. There were never such devoted sisters. Old song. Enduring sentiment. Or is it? Witness the plight of Epiphany Jones, cybermancer extraordinaire, when her flesh and blood comes to call.

The Aether was singing its song to me again. With my headphones on I didn’t hear the knocking. The pounding I heard. When I opened the door, I nearly slammed it shut again. It was my sister. My younger sister, and she had a suitcase.

‘‘So what’d you do this time?’’ I held the door open only to my shoulder. Slamming was still an option.

‘‘Got caught at a rave,’’ she said plainly. ‘‘Things are a little tense at home right now.’’

‘‘No kidding. What else?’’

‘‘Nothing.’’ She sounded defensive. ‘‘Mom and Dad didn’t appreciate me calling them from the police station.’’

‘‘I can see how that might make them upset.’’ She knew a call to me would have meant a night spent in a holding cell at juvenile hall.

‘‘Well?’’ Exasperation.

‘‘Well what?’’ I wasn’t going to make it that easy.

‘‘Can I come in?’’

‘‘Want to give me one reason why?’’

‘‘We’re sisters.’’

‘‘That’s never mattered before.’’ And it hadn’t. Bernie, Bernadette on her birth certificate, and I had never been close. My parents thought it was our difference in age. We’re seven years apart. My sister and I knew it was because we quite simply didn’t like each other.

I stared at her for a minute before turning around and walking back into my apartment. I left the door open.

‘‘I’m surprised Mom didn’t just give you the key,’’ I growled. My mother had a key to my apartment for ‘‘emergencies.’’ ‘‘Put your stuff in the spare room.’’ I headed for the fridge and a beer. ‘‘And close the door, Bernie.’’

Bernie was barely seventeen. Of the two of us, I’ve been the least problematic, even with my chosen profession. My name is Eppie Jones, Epiphany on my birth certificate. I am a practicing Cybermancer. I deal in cyber-divination and demon summoning. I work in the Aether, known as Hel to its inhabitants. What you’d call the Internet. My sister, on the other hand, has no notable skills other the aforementioned stress-inducing ability toward parents.

I live in Santa Cruz, on the west side, far enough from downtown where the tourists usually congregated. I like the weather; fog suits me, and the city has a constant population of hippies. I get a few Silicon Valley geeks too. I’ve no shortage of clients. Most of them want the usual, astrological readings and divinations. They use people like me instead of the classic methods: tarot and astrology. For the locals it’s modern chic while still being agreeable with their more pagan side. The high-tech geeks like the technology aspect of it. The Internet is perfect for that sort of divination, the whole random numbers thing and all.

‘‘Mom doesn’t know I’m here. Hey, this room’s crammed,’’ Bernie called from down the hall.

‘‘Take it or leave it,’’ I called back from the kitchen. I took a long drink of the cold beer, hoping for the latter. The spare room was where I threw everything I didn’t have a place for, including my little sister. ‘‘And call Mom.’’

After a few minutes she came and sat at the bar, sans suitcase.

‘‘Can I have one?’’ She gestured to the beer in my hand. I shrugged and motioned to the fridge. She could get it herself.

‘‘Did you call Mom?’’ I headed back to the computer. I had a new client, which meant a new spell to be written.

‘‘Yeah.’’ She flipped the bottle cap onto the counter. ‘‘She’ll be by tomorrow after work.’’

‘‘Great.’’ I put my headphones back on and began working. After a moment there was a tap on my shoulder.

‘‘What?’’ I growled and pulled the headphones down around my neck. I lived alone for a reason.

‘‘What’s on for tonight?’’

‘‘Nothing. I’m working.’’ I pulled the headphones back up and continued working on the new spell disk. After a few minutes I could hear the TV.

It was Sunday, and the portents were good that night; the spell was coming along nicely. When I finished it around 1 AM, Bernie was still watching TV. I locked up my disks as usual. These weren’t the kinds of things you wanted loose on the world. I was halfway down the hall when she called out.

‘‘Can I go online?’’

"No." I headed back for the family room. "Don’t touch my computer."

Unlike my parents, Bernie knew what I did for a living. I’m not sure she understood what I did, but anything crossing magic with technology was apparently cool. My parents thought I designed Web pages. They thought everyone working ‘‘in computers’’ designed Web pages. It was best to leave them with that impression.

‘‘I mean it, Bernie.’’

‘‘Yeah, yeah.’’ She waved me off and went back to watching TV.

Monday came quietly. Bernie had eventually made it to bed since the couch was unoccupied. With a cup of coffee in hand, I sat at the computer for some quick clean up work on the new spell.

‘‘What’s this?’’ I stood up again. Bernie had left her mp3 player in my chair. I tossed it across the room, mildly aiming for the couch. I sat back down and started to check the spell. I planned on testing it that day since the portents were once again favorable, so when I finished the cleaning up, I burned the disk. The sooner I had the spell working the sooner I got paid.

‘‘So what are you doing?’’ Bernie appeared, leaning over my shoulder.

‘‘Nothing that would interest you.’’

‘‘I want to see.’’

‘‘No.’’

She sat on the desk. ‘‘Come on. I’m bored.’’

‘‘By your choice not mine. Go sit down.’’ I pushed her off the desk and pointed behind me to the couch. I lit the candles surrounding my desk. These were critical. Whatever power you were able to glean from the Aether would soon dissipate without the protective circle. This was a textbook example of where magic and technology came together, if there were textbooks for such things.

Having completed the circle, I put in Tim’s spell disk. Tim’s my imp. I always call him out when I run spells. You just can’t put a price on experience.

Next to me sits a sphere. The ignorant might call it a crystal ball. It isn’t. It’s a special computer monitor. I use it to draw power from the Aether, to run the spells I write. Without the Aether it’d be just another program disk.

Once I had the spell running I waited for the flash of light that brought Tim into my office.

‘‘Hello,’’ I said when I saw it, without looking up. ‘‘Ready to work?’’

‘‘Of course,’’ he replied calmly. Tim was about six inches tall with oil slick colored skin. He also had a four inch pointed tail. His ears droop and his nose is nonexistent. He used to smell until I realized I could tell him to stop.

‘‘Wow! You’ve got a—a—what are those things called?’’ Bernie stood up from the couch.

‘‘Imp,’’ Tim replied. He turned his attention back to me.

‘‘Sweet!’’ She came closer.

‘‘New spell’s ready, Tim.’’ I motioned to the sphere.

My sister leaned on my chair. ‘‘Tim? You named your imp Tim?’’

‘‘Drop it, Bernie.’’ I tried to sound threatening.

‘‘But wasn’t Tim that guy you liked your senior year in high school?’’

‘‘Drop it.’’ I’d regretted using that name. The high school infatuation didn’t last long. Imps, on the other hand, do. The upside to naming an imp is that once you do, you have some measure of control over it. The downside of naming an imp is that once you do, you can’t change it. Once the authoring protocol has been set, it’s nearly impossible for it to be rewritten, not without major magic.

I loaded up the new disk and entered the parameter codes.

‘‘What’s that?’’ Bernie was looking over my shoulder.

‘‘Sit down and stay out of the circle.’’

‘‘Can’t you even tell me what it does?’’ She came around to the side of my chair.

‘‘I’m testing a new spell.’’ I finished with the parameters and checked the candles again. ‘‘Tim, get ready.’’

Tim jumped to my shoulder and closed his eyes.

‘‘So what’s this supposed to do?’’ Bernie called from the couch.

‘‘Locate a particular djinn.’’

‘‘Why? Wait—a what?’’

‘‘Demon.’’ I didn’t elaborate, client confidentiality. One last check of the circle, and I sent the go code. I watched the spell’s processes on my monitor while Tim watched the sphere.

‘‘I see the Aether.’’ He whispered. He always whispered when the Aether was opened. To me it looked like code on the monitor; to Tim it looked like home.

‘‘Keep it there, Tim.’’ I didn’t need to watch him to know he was making the signs that would help control the opening. Like I said, you can’t beat experience. As I watched my screen, I felt a rush of cold air. ‘‘We’re losing it!’’

‘‘Working on it,’’ he whispered.

The cold air became a push. Something was entering the circle. ‘‘Bernie! Sit!’’ Whether she didn’t listen or I was too late, I don’t know. The telltale flash of the spell happened.

I spun around in my chair and stood up, effectively flinging Tim off my shoulder. ‘‘Where the hell is she?’’

‘‘Well, by your tone I’d say you are referring to the rhetorical ‘Hell.’ ’’ Tim got up from the floor, straightening his tail. ‘‘When there’s a good probability that your sister is in the actual ‘Hel.’ ’’

Tim was referring to his place of origin. If the Aether is the universe, then Hel is one of the planets. Cybermancers and Zero Point Energy enthusiasts use the term Aether to describe the source of power. Everyone else unwittingly knows it as the Internet.

‘‘How did that happen?’’ I growled as I dropped back down into my seat. I began a tracer on the spell. It got lost a few jumps in. I said as much.

‘‘It did if she went over.’’ Tim climbed up on my shoulder. ‘‘Your data tracers don’t work over there. And I suspect some sort of corruption of the spell disk. How many loci are on the spell?’’ my imp asked.

‘‘The default to here and the Aether.’’ By their very nature, loci can’t be corrupted. They either work or they don’t.

‘‘Well, since she’s not here—’’ he looked around the room ‘‘—I’d say she’s crossed over into Hel.’’ He jumped on the desk. ‘‘I suggest a scan. To find out the cause at least.’’

I started a full system scan and several small files were flagged, files that weren’t mine. They were mostly music files.

‘‘What the hell are these?’’ I held up my hand, effectively stopping Tim from starting the ‘‘one l or two’’ argument again. ‘‘She downloaded music.’’ The mp3 player on my seat made sense now.

Tim leaned over my shoulder to read the screen.

‘‘Bernie must have gone online and downloaded a bunch of crap last night. Damn it. I knew I should have put in the lock code.’’ I had never needed to lock my computer—as I said, I live alone. As the scan finished up, I saw she had indeed downloaded crap. She’d let in a worm and it had gone straight for the disk-burning program. Tim was right. If my sister downloaded the virus last night, the disk I burned this morning had to be corrupted.

I massaged my temples. ‘‘Shit!’’

‘‘Well, we can’t find her with this thing. We need a clean computer.’’ Easier said than done. Cybermancers aren’t a close-knit group; that’s the nature of programmers. We tend to be loners until we’re forced to be team players.

There was only one person I felt confident would help me. ‘‘Pack up the disks. We’re going to see Iraina.’’

‘‘Of course we are. Sri Lanka is lovely this time of year.’’

Tim’s sarcasm was usually wasted on me but August was a nice time. No monsoons. The sphere went into a soft-sided bag. I gathered up the disks I’d need and put them into a smaller pouch along with a new box of Rick’s Razzmatazz Tea. It’s always nice to bring a gift when asking a favor of a witch. Rick’s was Iraina’s favorite.

Now one might wonder how a twenty-four-year-old computer professional and her otherworldly imp might get to Sri Lanka from a seaside town in California on absolutely no notice. Well, I get there the way I get most places a cab can’t take me: the telephone booth at the south end of Bay Street.

The streetlight over the booth was out. Neither it nor the phone booth had ever worked as far as I knew. Someone, long ago, had placed a handwritten ‘‘out of order’’ sign on the glass booth. I can only assume they also placed a warding spell on the booth since it was obvious that no one ever came to check on it.

With Tim on my shoulder, hidden by my waist-length hair, I stepped into the booth and traced the spell glyph that had been graffitied onto the glass. Some types of magic are easy to use even if you have no idea how they work. Tim and I stepped out onto a dark street in downtown Galle. It was sometime in the early morning hours if I remembered the time change. There was no one on the narrow lane and no streetlights to announce our arrival even if there had been. As I stepped away from the box, I felt the steady cooling sea breeze.

Iraina’s apartment was the fifth house down the street. I jogged the short distance to her place. If anyone could help it was her. And would. Iraina was overly friendly by cybermancer standards. Being a dualist had its advantages. There weren’t many witches who also practiced cybermancy.

It isn’t hard to find Iraina’s apartment. Usually there is a distinctive odor. Classic magic always seems to smell.

‘‘Epiphany! Darling!’’ Iraina opened the door before I’d knocked. She’s the only one who calls me by my given name. Even my parents don’t call me Epiphany. What she was doing up at this hour I didn’t ask. She always seemed to be awake, no matter what time of day I appeared.

‘‘Iraina.’’ I handed her the box of tea as she stepped aside to let me in. She looked the same as she did when I first met her about ten years ago, fortyish. I had a feeling that she dabbled in life extension, but I never had the nerve to ask her. It’s a touchy subject among witches.

‘‘Oh, you’ve brought Tim!’’ She reached out to pat his cheek. Tim smiled. ‘‘And a box of Rick’s. You need help with something, my dear.’’ She waggled a finger at me and smiled. I tried to smile back.

As I walked into what passed for her living room I noticed the smell. It wasn’t one of the usual ones.

‘‘What is that?’’ I said between sniffs.

‘‘Ah, yes!’’ She slipped the tea into her apron pocket and went over to the large cauldron sitting in the middle of the hardwood floor. It took up the entire middle of the small room. ‘‘Divination, dear.’’ She stirred the cauldron.

‘‘What sort of divination?’’ I asked, peering carefully into the depths of the giant pot.

‘‘Tiromancy, Epiphany, darling.’’ She stirred it again then looked at me, noticing my utter lack of understanding. ‘‘Cheese curds.’’

I just stared at her.

‘‘New client.’’ She smiled.

‘‘Does it actually work?’’ Tim asked from my shoulder.

‘‘I don’t see why not,’’ she answered with a shrug.

Iraina was interesting. Along with cybermancy, she was also what you’d call a classic witch; potions, spells, cauldrons, cupboards filled with all manner of dried and powdered creatures and now, apparently, cheese. Now me, I have trouble with instant rice, and I prefer to do my magic online. I like the logic of the Aether. It also keeps strange dried things out of my cupboards.

‘‘Iraina, I need your help.’’ I wasn’t sure she was listening.

‘‘With what?’’ She reached in with her hand, grabbed a handful of curd and squeezed.

‘‘I’ve lost Bernie.’’

‘‘Bernadette? Where, dear?’’ She let the liquid run through her fingers.

‘‘Into the Aether. I think.’’ I kept my eyes on the curds.

Iraina stopped midsqueeze and looked at me. ‘‘What did you say?’’

‘‘In the, uh, Aether.’’ I glanced up to meet her gaze briefly.

‘‘How in Astaroth’s name did that happen?’’ She dropped the curd back into the cauldron and wiped her hands on her apron. The demon Astaroth is said to teach the mathematical sciences to his followers. Because of this, cybermancy is usually connected to him.

‘‘Corrupted disk. I have to find her.’’ I took a deep breath and let it out.

‘‘I should say so, dear. She is your sister.’’

‘‘Yeah, there’s that, too.’’ I groaned. In truth, my mother was my more immediate concern.

‘‘You say the spell disk was corrupted?’’ Iraina wiped her hands on her apron.

‘‘Yes. Bernie let in a worm. It got to the disk burning program.’’

‘‘Oh, dear. That’s like a witch letting her newt tongues go bad. It just isn’t done, dear.’’ Iraina’s lecturing tone did little for my temper. ‘‘I would think you’d have an intrusion detector installed, dear.’’

‘‘I did. The worm must have spell coding in it.’’

‘‘Any time a spell is altered incorrectly strange things can happen, dear.’’

‘‘I know, I know,’’ I growled as I dropped into an overstuffed chair.

‘‘If I may make a suggestion, Epiphany. Retrieving your sister should be done as soon as possible. As you know, viruses spread, corruptions spread. It’s like when you add too much salamander lard—things just spin out of control.’’

‘‘Salamander what?’’

‘‘It doesn’t matter dear. What does matter is that you go get Bernadette. Now.’’ She walked over to a scarf-covered table. She pulled off the scarves, revealing her computer.

‘‘How do I do that? Can I send Tim?’’ I fought my way out of the chair.

‘‘No, I’m afraid not. Your authoring protocol becomes null once he returns to Hel. You’d have no control over him. You’ll have to go over with him. Your proximity will keep him under the control of the summoning, and his spell disk will be able to bring you all back.’’

‘‘You want me to go over to the Aether?’’

‘‘Hel, actually. There’s nothing really in the Aether, dear.’’

I knew that. Iraina was a stickler for accuracy sometimes. She motioned for me to come sit at the desk. I did. I unpacked my disks. Iraina had nearly the same setup as I did, though her sphere was a newer model. I made a mental note to upgrade after this was all over.

‘‘When I asked you once, I thought you said I couldn’t go over.’’ This I directed at Tim.

‘‘I said you shouldn’t go over. But since your sister did, the point is moot.’’ He smiled. Somehow I got the feeling he was enjoying this.

‘‘While you reprogram the parameters for three entities, I’ll go find you some candles for the circle.’’

It became obvious I wasn’t going to be offered another option. My sister would pay dearly for this. I didn’t know how yet. I left that detail for later. I did as Iraina said and reprogrammed Tim’s spell disk. The idea was simple enough; you just needed multiple placeholders. A little coding took care of that. The return locus was automatic. The address of the computer of origin was the locus by default for the reintegration point. Nice comforting logic. I knew it wouldn’t last.

Iraina returned with a basket of mismatched candles. ‘‘Would you like black or white, dear?’’

‘‘Black.’’ It fit my mood.

She dumped them onto the floor and Tim began setting them up around the desk.

‘‘Here you go.’’ She pulled a small wreath from her apron pocket and set it on Tim’s head. She pulled a slightly larger one out next and placed it on my head.

‘‘And this is?’’ I felt the wreath.

‘‘Blue spruce, dear. Protection against enemies.’’

I nodded politely and wondered how much stuff she could fit in those oversized pockets. Returning to the immediate issue, I adjusted my sphere, moving several suspicious wax-topped bottles out of the way. When I glanced back, Iraina was lighting the candles. I completed a system scan on the computer, declaring it clean. I loaded my general spells subprograms disk and waited. Once the download was complete, in went the corrupted spell disk. I ran the primary program to gain access to the Aether.

Iraina set a bottle of orange liquid on the desk. Next to it she set a mortar with pink petals in it.

‘‘See you use that before running the spell,’’ she said as she stepped back.

‘‘What for?’’ I eyed the bottle and mortar.

‘‘It’s Lammas,’’ Iraina said as if she couldn’t believe I’d forgotten.

‘‘Great. Another ritual for prosperity.’’ There simply wasn’t any logic in classical magic.

‘‘You really should keep better track of these things, Epiphany. You may use that,’’ she pointed at the computer, ‘‘but it’s still magic, dear. And I would suspect you could use a little prosperity about now.’’

It’s magic all right. If it weren’t, then a simple thing like a corrupted disk wouldn’t send people to Hel. I removed my PDA from my bag. I would have to contact Iraina via e-mail so she would know when to run Tim’s return spell. Since the Aether was the basis for the Internet, there shouldn’t be a problem with the e-mails.

I typed in the same parameters for the corrupted disk as when Bernie disappeared. Adding to my list of worries was whether or not the disk had been corrupted further. I needed the same result as last time. Tim sat next to the sphere and concentrated on the Aether. I showed Iraina how to run the spell disk when my e-mail arrived, then had her leave the circle. I mixed the orange liquid in with the petals and almost gagged. Roses and sandalwood oil. The odor was almost overpowering. Classical magic. I shook my head.

I stood next to the sphere with Tim on my shoulder and pushed the go code. ‘‘Okay,’’ I said and closed my eyes.

I didn’t see the flash if it happened. My eyes stayed closed until Tim tapped my shoulder. When I looked around, I saw a flat, orange plane. Scattered through it were rocky outcroppings. Orange.

‘‘Not as bad as I thought it’d be,’’ I said quietly. ‘‘Except for the color scheme.’’ I absently scratched my head under the wreath of spruce.

‘‘You were summoning a demon from here?’’ Tim sounded worried.

‘‘Hey, cash client. I didn’t ask too many questions.’’

‘‘You should ask more questions.’’ His grip on my shirt tightened. ‘‘This is not a good place.’’

I was going to ask him what he meant when we heard the scream. With Tim on my shoulder, I followed the sound to the far side of one of the rocky outcroppings. There we saw Bernie, and she wasn’t alone. She was scrambling up one of the boulders, trying to keep her feet off the ground. When I looked lower I saw why.

‘‘What is that?’’ I kept my distance. My concern for my sister was still in the mild stage and didn’t outweigh my self-preservation. Not yet.

‘‘Uh, I’m not sure,’’ Tim whispered.

‘‘Why are you whispering?’’ I whispered back.

‘‘Don’t you see it?’’ He pointed toward the thing but held tight with his other hand. ‘‘The Aether.’’

So that’s what it looked like. It was fascinating and repulsive at the same time, like code made flesh. It was hard to look away. The thing started to climb the boulder holding my sister. She screamed again. I didn’t think she knew we were there.

‘‘Bernie! Climb!’’ I shouted.

‘‘No!’’ Tim yelled.

‘‘What are you doing?’’ I hissed at him. Before he could answer, Bernie screamed again. She either hadn’t heard him or didn’t listen because she had turned and started climbing. She only got as far as the next higher boulder. Sitting above her was an exact copy of Tim except for the fact that it was six feet tall, not six inches. I swear it hadn’t been there a moment ago.

The djinn.

‘‘Tell her not to move,’’ Tim said. He began making hand gestures, not unlike those he used when helping me, and speaking a language I’d not heard him use before.

‘‘Bernie! Stop, don’t move.’’

The monstrous djinn spit something toward Tim and me. It landed a few feet in front of us. The stench was amazing. Sandalwood didn’t seem so bad now. I began to back up. Tim yanked my hair.

‘‘Stop,’’ he hissed in my ear. ‘‘Don’t move.’’

The djinn turned its attention back to my sister. Bernie hadn’t moved, either from fear or listening to me. A glow began to appear between Tim’s hands. When it was as large as a baseball he threw it at the djinn. The creature raised its hands to block the ball of light. It didn’t help. With a flash, the monstrous djinn faded away, but not before it let out an ear-piercing shriek.

‘‘That’s why you should ask questions.’’ Tim was as irate as I’d ever heard him be.

‘‘Okay, you win. Now what about the other problem?’’

‘‘I think it’s the worm from your computer. The presence of the Aether is somewhat odd, though. I suppose it’s the nature of the worm. That might be why your computer didn’t pick it up when your sister was online. It’s got magic in it. I think it would be best if it didn’t reach your sister.’’

Bernie hadn’t moved. The worm, on the other hand, had. It reached the boulder where she stood and, in one smooth movement, wrapped itself around Bernie’s leg. She collapsed before she could scream again. I made a start for the boulder when Tim yanked my hair again.

‘‘Don’t.’’

‘‘What do we do?’’

‘‘Uh, well.’’ Tim scratched his hairless head in thought. ‘‘Do you have a stick?’’

‘‘I’m serious!’’

‘‘Just kidding. My spell disk. You have an antivirus programmed in, don’t you?’’

‘‘Yes!’’ I’d built an automatic virus scan into Tim’s spell. When I had originally written the spell I hadn’t known what was capable of coming over the Aether. The scan had never picked anything up before. I’d forgotten it was even there.

I got my PDA out and sent the retrieval e-mail to Iraina. Moments later I received her reply. ‘‘Starting spell now.’’ I stepped as close as I dared to my sister and waited. It didn’t take long. I saw the flash this time. I had a momentary feeling of floating that I didn’t have the first time, then fell onto Iraina’s floor. The candles scattered, leaving trails of quickly cooling wax.

‘‘Are you all right, dear?’’ Iraina helped me up.

‘‘Yeah. Where’s Bernie?’’

‘‘Right here, dear.’’ She pointed to the floor behind me. Tim had fallen from my shoulder and was in the process of climbing back up.

‘‘Is she okay?’’ I asked Tim. There was no sign of the worm.

‘‘I suppose.’’ He cocked his head to one side and regarded Bernie lying on the ground. ‘‘She looks okay.’’

‘‘She looks out of it.’’ I waved my hand in front of her face. All she did was blink.

‘‘Did something happen? The spell disk ran the antivirus program just before you returned.’’ Iraina helped me up.

‘‘Bernie found the worm that caused all this mess in the first place.’’ I looked accusingly at my sister.

‘‘Cosmic justice. Not always pretty I’m afraid.’’ IRAINA shoved her hands into her apron pockets.

‘‘Understatement. I think I’d better get her home. Our mother is coming over.’’ I froze. ‘‘What time is it? I mean at home.’’ I looked at my PDA; it had switched to local time.

‘‘Uh, sometime in the afternoon, dear. Monday,’’ she added.

‘‘Shit! We’ve got to go. Now.’’

‘‘Are you sure that’s wise?’’ She came over to look at Bernie.

‘‘Irrelevant. I need her walking.’’

Iraina took a small silver box out her pocket. She opened it and pinched a bit of the powder that was inside. She put it into Bernie’s mouth.

‘‘Oh, my.’’ Iraina touched Bernie’s cheek.

‘‘What? What?’’ I looked closely at my sister then back at Iraina. ‘‘What?’’

‘‘Oh, probably nothing, Epiphany. Bernadette just looks a little pale.’’ She smiled at me. I was not reassured, but I was running out of time. A few moments later, my sister was functioning enough to walk. I threw my stuff back into my bag. With Tim on one shoulder and Bernie leaning on the other I headed for the door.

‘‘Thanks, Iraina. I’m sorry about just taking off.’’

‘‘Don’t worry dear. I read your curds while you were gone. You’ll be back soon.’’ She smiled as she held the door open. ‘‘Oh, wait. You’d better take this, dear.’’ She reached into her apron deeper than I would have thought possible and pulled out a leather pouch. It was tied with something’s hair. She held it out.

‘‘What’s that for?’’ I reached out slowly for it.

‘‘Just something you might need.’’ She shrugged. ‘‘I mean, after all, it isn’t every day you send your sister to the Aether, go to retrieve her, do battle with a demon, fight a worm, and return home now, is it?’’ She smiled. It wasn’t a simple smile. It was an ‘‘I know something’’ smile.

I hate those smiles.

‘‘Uh, okay. Thanks.’’ If I’d had time, I would have asked her more about it. As it was, I was just hopeful I could make it back to my apartment in time. I shoved the pouch into my pocket. It squished. Was there a law against witches using plastic bags?

Once back in Santa Cruz I made record time back to my apartment, considering I was dragging my sister. Once inside the apartment, the first thing I did was to drop Bernie on the couch. The second thing I did was to pack her suitcase. It was amazing how much stuff she’d needed for one lousy night. I made sure to throw her mp3 player in extra hard. I brought the suitcase out from the spare room and saw Bernie trying to stand.

‘‘What happened?’’ She wobbled as she stood.

‘‘You don’t remember?’’ I heard the microwave beep as I went into the kitchen.

‘‘Not really. I had the weirdest dream though.’’

‘‘You were in—’’ Tim started. I glared at him.

‘‘Yeah, okay.’’ I shoved a cup of instant coffee into her hands. ‘‘Drink this. I packed your stuff already.’’ I wanted nothing more than to get my sister out of my apartment. I wanted to clean up my computer. I wanted things the way they were. As I stood watching her, the doorbell rang.

Salvation! Our mother was here.

‘‘Get your stuff.’’ I went to the door and glanced back to make sure Bernie had heard me. I froze. The thing now leaning over the suitcase was shaped like my sister all right, but it had the appearance of the worm. My sister was code made flesh. My sister had been corrupted.

‘‘Crap.’’ I grabbed a blanket off the couch and threw it over Bernie. Grabbing the corners of the blanket I pulled her into the spare room and shut the door. ‘‘Stay in here.’’ I didn’t know if she could hear me or even understand me. I whirled around, looking for Tim. ‘‘We’ve got a problem.’’ I found him sitting next to the sphere.

‘‘I’d say so, yes.’’ He looked up thoughtfully from the computer desk.

‘‘Less analysis. More help,’’ I snarled. The doorbell rang again. ‘‘Shit.’’

‘‘I think your mother is here.’’

‘‘That’s not the kind of help I meant.’’

‘‘Just can’t seem to please you, can I? Well, then. Check your pocket.’’ He pointed to the small bulge in my jeans. I reached in to find the pouch Iraina had given me. I pulled it out. Not only was it still squishy but it also stank now.

‘‘It smells like mosquito repellent.’’ I held the bag away from me.

‘‘Citronella. Cleansing and warding.’’ He sniffed the air. ‘‘And cedar wood. Healing. Also for unhexing, I believe.’’

‘‘Unhexing? Unhexing what?’’ I stared at him.

He looked towards the spare room. ‘‘Iraina made up a medicine bag.’’ He pointed at the pouch. ‘‘Just in case, I guess.’’

‘‘And what do I do with it?’’

‘‘No idea.’’ Tim smiled. ‘‘Not a clue.’’

‘‘You’re just a fount of useless information aren’t you?’’ I didn’t expect an answer, and I didn’t get one. Tim simply faded out of view. Probably pouting. I grabbed my PDA and sent an e-mail off to Iraina. I marked it urgent. The doorbell rang a third time. If I didn’t find out what to do with the stupid pouch soon, my mother was going remember she had the key to the apartment. I couldn’t remember why I’d thought giving her the key was a good idea.

My PDA pinged at me. Iraina had replied. ‘‘It’s an infusion of oils. Rub it on her, dear, of course.’’ Of course. I didn’t know if it would work. I only knew that Iraina had a keen sense for the unusual, and I’d have to trust that. I really couldn’t do better than a technologically savvy witch.

As I ran back to the spare room, I yelled towards the front door. ‘‘Be there in a minute, Mom!’’

I opened the door to the spare room slowly. Bernie was standing where I’d left her. The blanket was still thrown over her. I pulled the blanket off. The sight of her made me shiver. I opened the pouch and pulled out a wad of cloth. It was saturated with the oils. Keeping my hand well covered with the cloth, I began to rub my sister’s face and head. I worked my way down her arms, across her chest and down her back. I heard the front door open. I kicked the room door shut and stood back and waited. The room stank of the aromatic oils. My sister no doubt stank as well.

To my relief and surprise, the coding began to fade. My sister’s face was returning. She looked at me in utter confusion. As I let out the breath I’d been holding, the door to the room opened.

I turned around and smiled.

‘‘Hi, Mom.’’

I shoved Bernie and her bag into my mother’s arms. Then I shoved both of them through the front door, ignoring every word.

First chance I had, I planned to look up a locksmith.

With the apartment finally quiet, I felt the pull. The Aether was calling to me. Putting on my headphones, I answered its call.

Narrator: Peace and quiet descends around Epiphany Jones once more. There’s nothing quite like a family visit to make you appreciate your privacy, especially when a misspell is involved.

JANET ELIZABETH CHASE is originally from Northern California and has her BA from the University of California at San Diego. Her past professions include working in live news, owning her own video post-production company, and the occasional stint as a corner sound person for boxing in Las Vegas. She is currently a full-time mom with a part-time writing habit. Her favorite color is green, her favorite number is seven, and her favorite food is sauerbraten with kartoffelpuffers. Janet spends her spare time playing air violin to the music of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. She lives with her husband, two children, and an assortment of interesting pets in Pleasant Valley, Nevada.