Chronicles of Han Storm, Preserving Creata Part 1, 2, 3

Chronicles of Han Storm, Book 1, Part 1, Chapter 11

Revised Version, Chronicles of Han, Preserving Creata, Part 1, Chapter 11

 *** Eleven ***

We entered the Northern suburbs that stretched up into the mountains. This was prime property and only the richest people could afford to live here. About halfway up Upper Hill we turned into a massive driveway.

An old mansion was nestled snugly into the mountainside; half of it exposed, the other half dug into the mountain itself. It did not look like an overly friendly place, yet the grounds were kept impeccably neat and I expected the house to be the same.

Two vehicles were parked in the driveway. One I recognized as the Captain's private vehicle.

Tucker's voice cut through my random thoughts. "That is the vehicle that Skinner uses. He is with Missing Persons."

It was already in the early hours of the morning. This was not a good time to be missing a person.

We were met at the door by Captain Truman. Looking past the Captain, I could see a middle-aged couple in the lounge with Skinner.

"The ransom note was delivered yesterday," Captain Truman informed us. "The Partry's sorted the funds out today and were promised their daughter back by nightfall. The ransom was paid, but their daughter is still not home, nor have we received any information as to her whereabouts. Steve only contacted me after midnight.

He is a personal friend of mine and little Georgia is my god-child. Please Han, if there is anything you can do for us. I would like to handle this as quietly as possible."

This was serious. The Captain was actually begging me and he never used first names.

"Where is her room?" I wanted to know.

"Come," Captain Truman breathed relieved, leading us to an upstairs bedroom.

"I think it best you wait with the family," Tucker requested the Captain. "We will join you as soon as we are done."

As the Captain left us, Tucker took a guarding position with his back to the closed door, effectively blocking any unwanted entry.

The room was a typical little girl's room with loads of soft toys and dolls occupying the space. Pink and white frills decorated the fairy world of this child.

Looking around for a catalyst, I decided on her pillow. It was ideal, unwashed and still had her scent on it.

"Please, whatever happens, let me finish in my own time," I advised Tucker, picking up the pillow.

Tucker nodded, looking quite uncomfortable as neither of us knew what to expect.

Sitting down cross-legged in the middle of the carpet, hugging the pillow, I allowed my spirit to be pulled out of my body . . .

At first I thought that I would leave to Georgia's life-memory file, as I had done with Stone's memories. Instead, I found myself hovering on a dark plane with hundreds of pinpricks of light upon it.

In my wildest dreams, I have never imagined such a place to exist.

What I was experiencing was the actual pulsating lights of individuals in the city. Each light represented an incarnated entity of high intelligence. Tucker's aura was recognizable around his light essence and, as he was the nearest to me, I definitely knew it to be him.

Orientation over, I placed my attention back to my task.

Already having picked up on Georgia's vibration, or particle signature through her pillow, I set out seeking for it.