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Short-Change the Boatman

Chapter 15: ISoME Approved Contraband

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Mikołaj took them back to a little storefront.

“We help train normal service dogs too, but it’s certainly easier when we can program them! Unfortunately, dogs like Tincampy can only bond with somebody who is close to the supernatural.”

“Program?” Allen asked, not sure Mikołaj had gotten the translation right. “He’s not a robot, right?”

Since they bonded, Tim had stayed right at Allen’s heels.

“Well, like I said, he’s magic. He can understand speech well, but we also have some premade rune sets we use to meet each client's request, and those are a bit more like programs. We used two preset rune sets, one for trauma and one for ghost recognition. Cross made a new runeset for your…” Mikołaj turned to Cross, “you didn’t say what the episodes were.”

Allen ducked his head to hide his blush. Trauma. Some of the therapists they’d made him go to before Mana used that word

“Not important,” Cross said. “We’re gonna teach the dog to bite you if you zone out, got it? We’ll do that training later.”

“Yes Master.” They’d learned sharp sensations broke Allen out of his episodes. A dog bite was better than wandering into traffic. “Thank you.”

“Alright, let’s start with Tim’s magical tasks,” Mikołaj said, clapping his hands together. “He’s in ‘heel’ mode right now, which means he’ll stick close unless a new spirit comes close. If you tell him ‘check’, he’ll jump through any ghosts in sight, or, if you’re in a larger space, in ten meters. He’ll keep pointing out new ghosts until you return him to heel, so you can keep him on checking mode if you don’t want to explain the command. If you tell him ‘seek’, he’ll go to the strongest nearby magical source and bark. You can also add commands to ‘seek’ like distance and what to or not seek. Do you want to try those now?”

“Okay!”

When Allen told Timcanpy to ‘check’, he jumped back through Nea’s shins.

“Yes yes. He knows I’m a ghost,” Nea informed the dog, arms crossed.

“He’s right, Tim. From now on, you don’t need to check Uncle Nea, just new ghosts. Uh… seek.”

Tim trotted up to Cross and pointed with a pleased yip.

Cross cracked her first smile to the dog and scratched his chin.

“Right answer. I am very powerful, and don’t you forget it.”

“Heel,” Allen said, and Timcanpy was back at his side, looking pleased with himself. Mikołaj had explained Timcanpy didn’t need food, but Allen tossed him a treat anyways.

They tried a few alternate seek commands; the strongest nearby source of magic besides Cross (Allen), the strongest source of negative energy (Nea), the strongest nearby magical object (Judgement), the strongest source behind the counter (a collar that would increase the intelligence of a regular service dog) and the nearest Grudge (a wisp of negative energy outside a bar down the street that Cross casually crushed like she was brushing off dust).

Timcanpy, Mikołaj assured them, wouldn’t be affected by Grudges, though he also couldn’t harm them. He could also lead Allen back to familiar locations and back to Cross. They also tested to make sure he wouldn’t take commands from anyone besides Allen.

“Next, let’s go over some standard service commands.”

“It’s alright,” Allen said. “I don’t think I’m traumatized.”

That was for people who’d had bad things done to them, not people who’d done bad things.

“Kid, your head is fucked and you know it,” Cross said.

Mikołaj glared at Cross, then looked back to Allen.

“If you decide you don’t need these commands, you can think of them as part of Tim’s disguise as a normal service dog. And remember, you never need to worry if you feel bad enough to ask Timcanpy to help you. You have a hard job, so if he can make it easier, that’s why he’s there. Sit down on the ground.”

Allen did so, still feeling awkward. Tim hopped right into his lap and Mikołaj laughed.

“Well, I was going to have you command him to sit in your lap, but I guess he doesn’t need you to say it. But you can always say ‘lap’ if you want him there. Try ‘chin’.”

“Okay. Uh… Timcanpy, chin.”

The dog stood up, paws on Allen’s shoulders like it was giving him a hug.It was hard not to laugh.

They talked about Timcanpy waking him up from bad dreams, keeping people back if Allen was upset, and going to get help if Allen needed it. (‘Get Help’ unfortunately, meant Cross) 

They took a break and Allen let Nea take over to pet Timcanpy for a bit, though they were careful to keep Mikołaj from seeing. They also learned Tim was smart enough not to take orders from Nea in Allen’s body.

“Alright,” Cross told the little dog. “He’s officially your problem now. If he dies, it’s on you.”

Timcanpy wagged his tail.

 

The dog had been a good choice. It had taken two days for Allen to have another Vacation, but Timcanpy had chomped him on the arm before Cross or Nea had even noticed. 

The dog didn’t bark or shit, and Allen slept curled around it like a teddy bear, face buried in TImcampy’s fur. Thank fuck it wssn’t a normal dog because Allen held that thing tight enough to crush it. Seemed like it made the nightmares better.

It didn’t mean the problem was completely solved. Allen still had to be careful to make sure Timcanpy could get to him before there was any danger. That meant choosing the elevator over stairs, seatbelt on, and taking Tim with him everywhere, haunted old prison or bathroom break.

Allen’s new dog also got Cross some desperately needed goodwill with Nea who’d traded shooting Cross nasty looks for chatting to the dog about whatever inane topic he wanted.

Allen kept thanking her which, beyond being gross, was thanking her for the wrong thing. What he should thank Cross for was what came next.

Every country had different laws around service dogs. Cross had gotten every document possible, but it would still be a pain in the ass. She needed to be working, not stuck in customs explaining away a magic dog.

What she needed was the same documentation she had for Justice. There was no way she was putting her gun in cargo, and flashing an ISoME document at security that declared it an important artifact got her through customs even in places where no gun, even an artifact, would be allowed.

If you wanted your country not overtaken by death, you agreed to ISoME’s rules of operation. Even if nobody in an airport knew about the paranormal, there was at least one person who understood that somebody carrying an ISoME badge flew first class on whatever flight they wanted with whatever items they were registered to carry. 

Unfortunately, that also meant ISoME was very careful about what items they’d register. Cross had altered Judgment so it couldn’t be loaded with regular bullets and filled out enough forms to serve as penance for all the ones she ignored.

If she took Timcanpy to an official ISoME office, they would look into the runes and realize they weren’t written for Cross. Cross had no problem telling apart the dead from the living, and she’d punt a therapy dog across the room. Besides, she couldn’t leave Allen without Timcanpy, which meant submitting the forms through Komui. That meant an in-person visit so Komui could at least claim to have checked things over.

They took the train back towards China and he dropped Allen off at Anita’s place. When he’d left, Mahoja was teaching Allen how to do eyeliner and Timcanpy was getting absurd amounts of food he didn’t need. Anita was a member of ISoME, but she liked Cross more. She wouldn’t tell them anything about the kid. 

Once the luggage (ghost, kid, and sort-of-dog) was dropped off, she hired a driver to take her north towards headquarters. She pulled out her phone and texted Reever.

[Hour out from HQ. Get me a boat, China side of the river.]

The only remarkable part of Blackrose’s headquarters was the location. It was built on an island in the Amur River. In China, it was legally listed as being in Russia. In Russia, it was legally listed as being in China. There were no signs in any language, just an unremarkable island that was a pain in the ass to get to.

The ice had mostly broken up, but the girl in the boat was still shivering in her heavy Blackrose uniform.

“H-here to pick you up, Miss Cross.” She was quite pretty, but, if Komui was hoping a pretty face would lure her into headquarters more often, he should have found somebody who wasn’t terrified. There was nothing alluring about somebody afraid to meet your eyes. “Welcome back.”

“I’ll need a ride back in an hour.”

“Not that we’re not glad to have you, Miss Cross, but is there a reason for your visit?”

She shrugged and the woman didn’t dare start the conversation again, paddling them quietly across the river.

The Blackrose building was gigantic and operated more like a town than a business. There were dorms, cooks, and even a small airport. There was also an underground tunnel that went under the river and came up in Russia, but Cross hated crossing the border only for some nervous intern to drive him through a dark tunnel.

As they got to the shore, the few people out in the early spring chill stole glances.

It was always weird to be in the paranormal world. In New York, Cross was just another weirdo. In small towns, she was an oddity, but around these people, she was a celebrity.

Honestly, it was another reason to avoid the place.

She walked through the front doors and pushed right through the lobby, ignoring the secretary. People whispered nervously, stealing glances at her. The deeper in she got, the more people gave her a friendly greeting or ignored her entirely. As she got to the door of the science section, Komui burst through, looking haggard. His science minions followed him out like a nervous school of fish, not quite sure who they were attempting to protect from whom.

“Marian~, my beautiful wayward psychopomp!” he cried, arms open in greeting, “Why the hell are you in my house?!”

“Need you to sign something,” Cross said, giving him an easy grin.

“All this way just to sign something! It’s been two years. Oh! How about I look at Judgement and I have Reever take a few reports?” Komui said, making grabby hands at the gun.

“I’m busy,” Reever snapped. “And you just want a magic toy to play with.”

“Fine, fine, this way. Let’s hear what pulled you in,” Komui said, gesturing Cross into an office and casually kicking out the person it belonged to, who seemed relieved to leave.

“So, I know you hate it here, what do you want?” Komui asked, sitting at his employees desk. “And who’s been filling out your paperwork? Have you kidnapped a child? Because you’re allowed to do a lot of things, but I probably can’t let you kidnap children.”

“Perhaps my handwriting’s gotten worse, but no. Nobody’s been kidnapped.”

“An apprentice then,” Komui said. “You should have brought them in, introduced them to the team. Oh, Johnny’s made a little uniform design, we could have one of those whipped up.”

“If I take an apprentice, you’ll be required to report it, and I’d hate to put you in that position.”

Komui’s energy fell and he looked up to meet her eyes.

“You know I’d do my best to protect them.”

He had those sincere, weary eyes that made so many stand behind him and Cross thanked her cold heart.

“Your best isn’t enough,” she said, meeting his tired gaze with blunt judgment. “Look how it’s turned out for your sister.”

It was cruel, and she didn’t get any joy out watching Komui’s face crumble, but she couldn’t pull punches. Komui needed to remember what the stakes here were. Cross had said she would take care of Allen, and she might not do it well, or gracefully, or happily, but she wasn’t going to do it half assed.

“That’s not fair. I didn’t have anything when they took Lenalee,” Komui said “I might have to bring your apprentice back to HQ for a bit, but I’m already keeping them away from one kid just fine. What’s one more?”

“It’s different because they’re happy to help you sweep the Second Exorcist project under the rug. Lee, I am barely keeping this brat alive, and, honestly, you can’t handle it.”

Most of the team back here, including Komui, had fuckall supernatural power. Allen was unstable, dishonest, and a foot into death. He was also incredibly gifted and could easily be mistaken for a pushover. 

Now that recruiting gifted kids could be framed as an altruistic attempt to save the world, all gloves were off. The biggest concern was ISoME’s official training academy, but every government, faith, and major corporation in the paranormal world was trying to get its hands on new talent.

“If nothing else,” Komui told him, “these kids need support. They need a home. You don’t… you don’t like people, Cross, and you can’t offer stability. Maybe the kid’s safer on the run, but are you sure you want to do it this way?”

“Of course I don’t,” Cross growled. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not for the best. Anyway, that’s why I’m here today. I need to file this garbage in person, but an ISoME office would realize something was wrong.”

Komui knew when to drop a fight. He sighed and leaned back, eyes softening.

“You said I needed to sign something?”

“Yeah. Got the kid one of those Polish constructs disguised as a service dog,” she said. Komui raised his eyebrows, fighting back a grin. “Don’t look at me like that. It was that or stop sleeping. Anyways, I need you to sign this thing saying I got a dog construct to hunt Grudges.”

“You got your apprentice a dog.”

“Yes. Can you sign the damn form, or am I going to spend the next century unable to do my job because I’m stuck in customs?”

Komui sighed and uncapped his pen, then looked up again.

“I’m supposed to inspect the runes. Of the dog that is clearly not here.”

Why did the man choose now to actually read his paperwork?

“Look, he’s a competent kid with way too soft of a heart. Once he’s ready to stand on his own, I’ll send him your way. If you ask, he’ll help you. Just give me a few years.”

“How long?”

“Can’t say exactly. He’s eleven now. Sixteen, maybe?”

“And he’ll help?”

“If I can keep him alive that long.”

Komui didn’t argue after that, didn’t criticize Cross for using a kid as a bargaining chip, for volunteering his apprentice to be the first through the beast’s jaws.

Call her an emotionless bitch all you wanted, this was why feelings were a weakness. Good people did all the worst things out of love.