There used to be an old saying, Matt - maybe you've heard it - "Three can keep a secret... if two of them are dead."
Then again, the guy who spouted off that bit of wisdom also made a name for himself by flying kites in lightning storms, so I guess you can take that for what it's worth. All I know is, for a month running, that femme fatale called "Lotta Handsome" had done a pretty fair job of keeping her secrets. I could have told you from day one, though, that it was only a matter of time before they slipped out. See, out of the three folks who knew the real truth about Lotta - me, her, and the guy all the papers started calling, "The Klordny Killer" - only Lotta herself had the good sense to wind up dead.
It had been a month since that Klordny night that I'd made the bad call to take Lotta up on her offer for a chat in her hotel room. Well - as you know by now - the only chatting I wound up doing that night was with the toilet bowl, when I found that somebody had beat me there and decided to separate Lotta's body from her head. The story might have ended right there, except for the fact that I chickened out. I had run out on the scene, while the third guy in the mix - the guy who actually did the slicing and dicing - covered all of his tracks... not the least of which was the body.
Over that next month, I spent half my time trying to stay one step ahead of you and your Security Office boys, as you breathed down my neck on what you were calling a "missing persons" case - but were tracking down like the murder you knew it was. The other half, I spent getting batted back and forth faster than a magnoball between everybody and their brother who seemed to have their own hooks into the ever-expanding story of Lotta Handsome.
I said "everybody and their brother," but what I should have said was, "their brother and everybody," because - of course - the first player in this little game was Lotta's brother, himself... Junior Handsome. The only heirs to their dead father Molock's criminal empire, Lotta and Junior were trying their hardest - each in their own way - to clean up the family name. After Lotta went missing, it was Junior who rattled the legal chains loud enough for the courts to finally declare her dead, conveniently making sure that every last penny of the Handsome fortune wound up in Junior's pocket.
Every last penny, that is, except for the ones that Lotta had been taking from Legion World's resident evil genius, Tamper Lad. Lotta and Tamper had been deep into some shady territory together. Just before she turned up dead, Lotta had taken a huge payoff from Tamper in return for some artifact he'd been tracking down for years, and which - thanks to Junior skimming off the bottom - had been snatched out of his hands the day before Lotta was supposed to deliver it.
I wouldn't shed too many tears for Tamper, though. When it came to dirty dealings, that guy had his fingers into more pies than a Ggrrggian food-taster looking for poison. On top of whatever extracurricular activities he was running with Lotta, turns out Tamper also was waging a private war with the Security Office, planting his moles into any corner of the legal process he could. Lucky for me, one of those corners was where the Lotta Handsome case was housed, because - even before it came to light - any trace of my involvement had been wiped clean.
It wasn't out of any goodness of his heart that Tamper had helped me out, though. Turned out that was just his little way of blackmailing me into helping him track down his missing artifact. To hedge his bets, Tamper had also played the blackmail card with a fast-talking lawyer by the name of Kid Quislet. If you believed the tall tale that guy was telling, though, he was right where he wanted to be. Kid Quis claimed he was a counter-mole for the Security Office, involved in a sting operation to bring Tamper down. If half of this was true, this thing had more sides than a pair of fifth-dimensional dungeons and dragons dice.
One person who definitely did not believe Kid Quislet's story - or Tamper Lad's for that matter - was my gal Friday, Emily Sivana. Early on, when you'd pegged me as mixed up in the Lotta business, I had Emily start a tail on you to find out what was what. Before I even knew which end was up, though, Emily had traced the whole thing deep down a rabbit hole, opening up what seemed to be a conspiracy that stretched back twenty years... and spanned two planets.
Right at the heart of this crazy mess were two old members of the Primary Color Gang: the Blue Cheese Kid, Eddie Stilton, a stoolpigeon who was mixed up in both sides of the war - and wound up in a coma with his throat slit as a result; and the Red Fist, a washed up boxer who just happened to be Lotta Handsome's secret lover from years ago. Emily had followed the trail back to Earth almost three weeks prior - but then she went underground herself, leaving me to suss out most of those details on my own.
The one detail that Emily did make sure that I dropped, though, was the little matter of your fellow Security Officer, My Whee Fem. I had spent some time cottoning up to My Whee to try to eke out a detail or two about what the Office really knew, but - before I knew it - I found myself falling for her... and hard. All that came to a quick end, though, when Emily tipped me that My was deep in cahoots with you, Matt, and was probably just playing me for a sap. To see My's reaction when I gave her the brush off, though - well... either she was a good enough actress to be cast in my next holo... or I had made the stupidest mistake of my life.
A lot of players in our little drama, Matt... every one of them - even you and me - were holding on to a secret of their own.
It was hard enough to juggle these balls when only one or two of them were in play. I couldn't begin to imagine what would happen when they started to cross.
Who would bend? Who would break? Above all... who would start giving up their secrets?
Little did I know at the time, as I sat in the back of the hovercar, making my way to Lotta's funeral... but I was about to find out.
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"...was always like a second daughter to me. It seems like only yesterday the sounds of Lotta and Tiffany playing outside would..."
I shifted again in the back pew listening to what seemed like the hundredth person sharing their memories of the dame that half of them probably hadn't even seen in more than a decade. No offense to old Horace Spiffany up there - for all I knew he probably was pretty broken up about his daughter's childhood friend - but the thing about a funeral that's always harder for me to swallow than organic material on Bismoll, is just how many friends a person suddenly has... after they kick off.
People who would of just as soon spit as look at you while you were still kicking, suddenly come crawling out of the woodwork to pay their last "respects". They throw on a dark suit and a sad face, and pull up in droves to get one last look at you before they start shoveling on the dirt. Lotta Handsome's funeral was no exception. To look at the crowd gathered in the church of the Mourning Greens Cemetery, you'd of thought that the Bacard Barley circus was in town.
And what a crowd!
True, the Handsome family didn't have a fraction of the power or influence that they did back when Large and Molock had been running things, but the name alone still carried enough weight to bring out the rich, the famous, and - looking around - the infamous, as well.
There was the Spiffany family, of course - the wealthiest "legitimate" clan on Legion World. Lester and Tiffany, the heirs to the fortune, were sitting in the front row listening as their father continued on, flanked by their granddad, Cornelius, and his sister Cornelia. It looked liked they even dusted off the old patriarch, Leonidas Spiffany, although - to see him nodding in his hoverchair - I had my doubts that the old guy even knew where he was. Almost as if to provide balance to the room - to keep it from tipping over from the weight of the Spiffany money bags - their chief rivals, the McCauleys, were also in attendance, with both the patriarch Leopold III and his grandnephew, Leland, making a showing.
Near the front - making sure he got a good view - was that shady Venturan governor, Gruertis Nyebif. I had spied his roving eyestalk on my way in as I'd walked past a crowd of the Zaryan boys talking loudly about their casino business. Nyebif wasn't the only politico who'd made the scene, though - not by a long shot. I'd caught a few glimpses earlier of quite a few folks I knew from the government pages - not the least of whom was the Taltarian ambassador, Thora. Not even she could stifle her scowl, though, when probably the most notable attendee - Princess Makarona of the Pyngwyn Colonies - had breezed by with her entourage. Yep... it was clear the Handsome family had made some powerful friends during their heyday.
Even the LMB had a small contingent present, although not in any official capacity. When I first rolled up to the church, I had seen a somber-faced Lash Lad smoking outside with his fiancée, Josh Siegel. I remembered - back in the earliest days of the LMB - that Lash had been romantically involved with Lotta's late uncle, Large. That whole thing had gone south, of course, when Large betrayed him - brainwashing Lash into playing the part of a criminal during his run as Middlefinger. I was a little surprised that he showed up, but, I suppose if you loved somebody once - in the end - that's not something that ever really goes away.
My friend, Director Lad was there, as well, having gotten pretty tight with Junior Handsome when we'd been trying to pound out the details on that reality-holo. That whole thing was off the table now, of course - but still, it was good of Sudro to have put in an appearance, and I admit it was nice to see a familiar face in this sea of devilfish.
And speaking of bottom feeders - of course, no gathering of people who had more agendas than a week-long Weber's World summit would be complete without the number one double dealer himself, Tamper Lad.
If I said before that this scene reminded me of the Bacard Barley circus... well... then Tamper was the star attraction - the Composite Clown himself. He arrived late, sitting in the back pew, those two gorillas that my face had made the acquaintance of a couple weeks prior standing behind him like a wall. Even though the church was packed to the gills with the rich and powerful, a wave of nodding respect seemed to pass through every one of them, people craning around in their seats to make eye contact.
To his credit, Tamper played it respectful, this being a funeral and all. He just quietly removed his coat, giving a few subtle nods to some of the politicos and a small wink to a couple of the young ladies, then settled in. For half a second - even though I was in the pew opposite to him - I thought he hadn't noticed me. Thought? Hell, I hoped he hadn't. I knew that the time had to be getting close to Tamper calling in his "favor" of me - sending me and Kid Quislet off to Earth to retrieve his precious "Middle Finger of Ekron," or whatever - but, right then, that was really the last thing I wanted to be reminded of.
"Thank you, Mr. Spiffany," the reverend was saying, taking his place again in the front of the room, "And our final eulogy for Carlotta will be delivered by her beloved brother, Molock Handsome, Junior."
I watched as Junior stood up, slowly moving toward the front of the room, papers in hand. Poor guy. Junior was a galoot, no doubt. I had my own thoughts about why he'd pushed to have Lotta declared dead - every one of them rung up with credit signs - but, the fact of the matter was, the guy had lost the only family member he had left in this world.
I raised my palms to my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. For the past month I'd been so wrapped up in my own troubles - either trying to dodge the Security Office, or puzzling out who was behind this whole thing - that I hadn't let the real weight of the situation hit me.
A girl was dead.
Sure... it was a girl who'd been mixed up in a lot of crazy games - any one of 'em dangerous enough that she should have known better - but that didn't change the fact that somebody had changed all the rules and flipped the spaceopoly board right over.
I thought again about that scene in her bathroom at Zaryan's. Even a month out, I could still only get it in flashes. Her hand laying on the bathroom floor though the crack of the door... the weight of the body as I pushed the door open... and that horrible sickening moment when I'd caught a glimpse of that blonde head in the sink.
Nobody deserved to go that way, no matter what they'd done. And the final insult to her memory was the fact that the killer had hightailed it with the body, meaning that all that was getting planted today was an empty coffin.
For a month, I'd been running ragged, doing my best to avoid the reality of it... to stay as far away from the thick of things as I could. But, as I - and everybody else in the church - was about to find out, while I'd been running away, somebody else had been digging in deep.
Junior cleared his throat, and began speaking.
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The church was grew as quiet as a five year later darkness as Junior began speaking.
"Legion World has made my family's fortune. For the past sixty years - from the time when my grandfather, Tzoldarkin Handsome, first arrived from the old planet with only five credits to his name, and speaking next to no Interlac - Legion World has been our home.
"I look around the church today at the people who knew our family when we first started out... Spiffany... McCauley. These were the names that - when I was a kid growing up - I heard talked about like legends. 'Someday, kids,' my father would say, '...someday, you'll take your place among them.' Senator Handsome... Governor Handsome. He knew that sort of life wasn't in the cards for him, but this was the dream my father had for my sister and me."
He paused for a moment, placing his hand on Lotta's empty casket. After a moment he continued on.
"My father may have been a lot of things in his life, not all of them pretty. I know, a lot of times, history doesn't always paint a full picture but, whatever else he may have been to the world - to me and Lotta, at least, he was always just, 'Dad'.
"Like any dad, my father was always trying to teach us what was important. I know it seems I'm talking a lot about my father, but it's just because - as I stand here now, thinking about my sister - I keep remembering one of the most important things he ever taught the two of us. He taught us that, no matter what, we always had to stick together.
"It was a long time ago - I was probably about eight years old or so, and Lotta was probably just about five. Anyway, my dad was in his office with some of his guys, and the two of us were in the study just horsing around, like kids do.
"I don't exactly remember how it happened - maybe Lotta and me got into a shoving match or something - but, long story short, she pushed me pretty hard and I stumbled against one of the shelves where our mother used to keep all these fancy sculptures she used to collect. Before I even knew what was happening, one of those pieces - some charcoal looking thing - tipped over and started falling down toward the floor.
"I saw the thing dropping like it was in slow motion. I tried to get to my feet to catch it, but it was too late - I watched it hit the ground and crack right in two. It took all of about ten seconds before I heard the door to my dad's office click open. He walked into the study and, without saying a word, looked down at the broken pieces, and then at Lotta and me.
"Like I say, some of the details are kind of hazy after all this time, but the one thing that I remember quintile-crystal-clear to this day was the tiny voice that broke the silence. Choking up with tears forming in her little eyes, Lotta said, 'It wasn't Junior, daddy... I broke it.'
"Well, even as an eight year old, I knew that there was no way I could let my kid sister take the rap if it meant she was going to get punished, so I jumped right to my feet and said, 'That's not true, sir... it was my fault.' Lotta didn't miss a beat. 'Junior's just trying to protect me, daddy... it was my fault,' she says and, again, I come back with, 'No, I did it.'"
Junior smiled to himself, lost for a second in a happier time, then went on.
"So, the whole time we're going back and forth, my father is just looking at us - his hands in his pockets - just waiting, I guess, to see if either one of us is gonna back down - but neither one does. After about a minute of this, he puts up his hand and says, 'All right, you two... I guess I'll never find out who's responsible, so I'll just have to say that neither one of you are.'
"We both got really quiet, then - I guess trying to figuring out, if neither one of us was responsible... then who was supposed to get punished?
"Turns out, neither one of us did. Instead, he just looked at us like he was the proudest father in the world. He bent down and picked up the two pieces himself and said, 'Make me a promise, you two... just stay like this forever." He started back to his office and, as he tossed the pieces into the atomizer, called back, "Oh... and don't tell your mother.' "
A light laugh went through the church.
Junior looked out at the crowd and - slowly - the smile he'd had faded away. He waited a moment for the crowd to go silent and began speaking again, his face deadly serious.
"I want to thank everyone who came out today, and everyone who had some kind words to share about my sister.
"I know that, for a lot of you, this is probably the strangest funeral you've ever gone to. There's no body to lay to rest, there's no closure to be had... hell... half of you might not even believe my sister is dead."
There was the sound of people shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
"But, standing here in front of you, I want you all to know that I do believe.
"I believe in my sister... and I believe in Legion World. But, today - somewhere out there - there's a Legion Worlder who's done wrong by them both. I'm Lotta Handsome's brother and, because of that, it's my responsibility... my duty... to stand up for her.
"But... what's more... I'm also Molock Handsome's son.
"And because of that, I vow today, on the name of my family, when the person responsible is found out... one way or another... they will be punished."
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"Quite the rousing little speech, wouldn't you say, Mr. Nihil?"
I turned around on the church steps toward the sound of Tamper Lad's voice behind me, descending the steps with his two goons in tow. After hearing Junior's eulogy for Lotta, I was in no mood to hang around for the trek to the cemetery. I was hoping I could just slip back out to my hovercar and head out without running into anyone but, apparently, Tamper had other ideas. I tried to give him the brush off.
"Junior's been under a lot of stress. The guy lost his sister."
"Mmmm... well, someone lost her, that much is certain. But I was rather impressed with young Junior. Perhaps he is his father's son, after all." Tamper Lad began pulling his gloves on. "In any case, quite the speech - definitely got the blood flowing. Oh... my apologies. I had forgotten, you have a bit of a sensitivity when it comes to flowing blood, don't you?"
"What do you want, Tamper?"
"Come, Mr. Nihil... you know what I want," he smiled wickedly. "I just wanted to inform you that the day has come. It seems appropriate - this being a day for final farewells, and all that - that you should be making yours, as well. I've just received word that my... property... will be released from orbital customs into a receiving area on Terra within the week. You and Mr. Quislet will be leaving first thing in the morning."
"First thing in the... that's a little short notice don't you think?"
"It can't be avoided. Time, I'm afraid, waits for no man. I've taken the liberty of arranging a hovercar to the station. It will meet you at your flat promptly at seven AM. In the mean time, I suggest your arrange your business affairs and... oh, yes... I had nearly forgotten. I'm going to need your presence at the Supper Club this evening."
"Tonight? Are you kidding me? If I'm leaving tomorrow, I don't have time to..."
"Ah... make time, Mr. Nihil. There is an additional matter we need to discuss prior to your departure, and I'm afraid I'd much prefer doing so within the comforts of my own establishment. Fewer errant ears about, you understand."
I sneered involuntarily and it absolutely didn't go unnoticed. Tamper smiled again and, giving a final tug to his gloves, beckoned to his two bodyguards to ready his hovercar. "Very good. I will see you tonight, then and, Mr. Nihil, do try to wear a nicer suit, would you? There's a good lad."
I watched as Tamper and his goons made their way toward their hovercar, then crunched over the gravel toward my own waiting in a long line outside the church gates. As I approached, I noticed a bunch of guys in suits scanning all the car plates.
"No rest for the boys in blue, eh, Ex?"
I turned to look at the voice calling over and saw the rumpled form of Phil Marlowe - that reporter from the Enquirer - making his way toward me.
"Oh... hey... Phil Marlowe." I reached out to shake his hand. "What's the rumpus, pal?"
"This?" He nodded toward the pack of guys scanning the plates. "You think old Matlock would let a gathering of nogoodnicks this big go by without trying to gather up some intel? While he's still got a murder on his hands? Not a chance."
"Hmph." I grunted noncommittally. It made sense, especially given the cause for the gathering but, I got to admit, Matt, I really didn't like being reminded of your involvement I turned back to Marlowe. "So it's good running into you, Phil. I never got a chance to thank you for all that Primary Color Gang material."
"Not a problem... that help you out?"
"Time will tell, I suppose. So, what brings you all way out here? You're not covering the Handsome funeral, are you?"
"No, no... that's on the society beat. Believe it or not, I actually came down here to try to catch you."
"Me?" I lowered my voice. "This about your side of things?" I figured that Marlowe must be making some progress on that Angora Swetters drug story he'd been chasing after that tip I'd given him.
Phil looked around, a little unsure. "You got time to go for a ride? I got my own car over here if you want to let your driver go."
"I'm heading downtown."
"That works fine. Come on."
I dismissed my driver and climbed into the back of Marlowe's hovercar. The driver partition was up, but he just rapped on it, and we started moving. I knew that I had a lot to get done before tomorrow, but Marlowe had done me a solid, so I didn't mind giving him a few as we split a ride.
"So, what's the skinny, Phil? That tip I give you about that Outer Rim doctor pan out?"
"In spades, Ex. Seems that doctor's been supplementing his income for years now by running a little cover-up scam. For the right amount of scratch, he'll book a room in somebody's name - even fake up a bunch of records - without the patient ever having to show up. It seems his little 'empty room' con is a real hot option with celebs looking to skip out on their court-ordered rehabs."
"Nice work. So, you going to publish?"
"No... the doc is small potatoes. He's just the first in to a story that goes a lot deeper."
"Angora Swetters?"
"For starters."
"She was supposed to have gone into rehab the day after Klordny, right? But you said you didn't think she showed up. She pull the 'empty room' thing to go off on a binge or something?"
"That's what you'd think, right? Except... it's a month on now, and nobody's heard a peep from her. Trust me, ain't no celeb on a bender going to avoid the paparazzi for a month. And there that room sits... still being paid for."
"Call me crazy, Phil, but... isn't there a chance that she really is in there?"
"There's always a chance... but I've been in this racket a long time, and my reporter's nose is telling me that something here stinks to high heaven."
"Fair enough... but why come to me with this? I appreciate the help you gave me with the Primary Color stuff and all, but that tip on the doctor was really all I had. I had heard about that a few years back with some holo actor but, beyond that, this is all a little out of my wheelhouse."
"Maybe, Ex... but maybe not. I did a little more digging, trying to follow the money on this Swetters thing - to see who was fronting the dough for the Clinic space. Turns out it's not coming from the Swetters family - or anything even remotely related to her. Get this: If you believe the records, her stay at the clinic is being paid for in full by some defunct invoicing company."
I raised my eyebrow. "I... I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Yeah, I didn't at first, either. Until I dug a little deeper. It seems this company was bought out by a bigger corporation years ago. They closed down operations, but kept the name on the books as a shell corporation to move smaller transactions around. It's a pretty complex web of ownership and rights holder connections but - when you trace it down - it turns out this company is owned by a division of Wellesley Logistics."
"Wellesley? As in..."
"As in Colonel Arthur Wellesley... the oldest and dearest friend of Legion World's resident evil genius, Tamper Lad."
I put my hand to my head. I couldn't begin to make sense of what Marlowe was telling me. I had seen Angora Swetters with Tamper Lad in Zaryan's Casino the night of Klordny. The very next day she checks into to rehab - or not, if you believed Marlowe - and the whole thing just happens to be paid for by a company owned by Tamper's best friend? What the hell was going on here?
I turned to Marlowe again and asked, completely befuddled, "And... and so - if this is true - why not go back to the Security Office? I know Matlock thinks you're a conspiracy nut and all, but I know for a fact that the Office is gunning for Tamper. This sounds like exactly the type of thing that Matlock would pounce all over."
"Oh, you think? Not a chance, Ex... not until I've got some hard proof. Number one, Matlock hates my guts, and number two, he'd never buy it. Like I say, I know it's connected, but half of what I've told you was found out illegally, and the other half is based on hearsay. I need hard proof. I need somebody with an in to Tamper."
"And why on earth would you think I have that?"
Marlowe grinned wryly. "Ex... come on. I know where you're supposed to go tomorrow."
I swallowed. How could Marlowe possibly know that Tamper was sending me to Earth the next day when I didn't know myself until just ten minutes before?
He continued. "Yeah... like I say, I can't go to Matlock with this. But... Matlock isn't the only one that's been collecting intel."
Marlowe reached forward and rapped again on the hovercar partition. It started to retract downward, as the driver turned around to me.
"You miss me, Nihil?" she said, tipping back her chauffeur's cap.
"Emily?!"
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"Not now, Nihil... the clock is ticking." She pulled the hovercar off the side of the road in front of the LMB Enquirer building, and put it in park. She swung around to face Marlowe, "OK, tell him."
"Here's the deal, Ex," Marlowe began explaining. "Like I said, I need some hard proof that Wellesley Logistics is engaged in some sort of illicit activity. To be honest, it doesn't even matter what - just something that would open the door to an official review of their books. If we can get the access to their records, I know for a fact I can tie them back to this Clinic scam and get the real story on what happened to Angora Swetters. This could be big... I'm talking Pulitzer big."
I looked at Emily. Even though her mouth was grinning at me, her eyes were staring me down intensely, like she was trying to tell me something. Then it hit me - Marlowe was only talking about the Swetters thing. He had no idea about anything going on with me and the Lotta Handsome mess. I didn't know what Emily was playing at here, but I had to trust her for the time being. I played along.
"OK, Phil," I said, turning back to him, "I get where you're coming from, but - no offense here - how does me knowing Tamper Lad help your play?"
Phil smiled. "That's the beautiful part of it. I'm heading back from the Outer Rim yesterday, and who do I wind up sitting next to on the shuttle? Your friend, Emily, here. We get to talking, and pretty soon it comes out that we have a mutual acquaintance - you! I don't believe in coincidence, Ex. Here I am, basically at a dead end and - out of nowhere - I meet somebody that can totally provide the next piece of the puzzle. It's almost like there was a psychic connection or something."
I looked at Emily with the smallest hint of a sneer. "You vouch for this psychic business?"
"Very funny, smart guy. Just hear him out."
Phil continued, "So, anyway, Emily mentions that you're traveling to Earth soon to intercept a package. A malachite statuette, right?"
I looked at Emily briefly and she subtly nodded to me. We were going to have to have a long talk, she and I.
"Yeah... that's right, Phil. Is that important somehow?"
"It could be the most important thing of all to cracking this story wide open. I don't know if you know this, but - for the past twenty years - there's been an embargo against the importation of malachite to Earth. It's illegal to transport it through Terran airspace. If you can get a hold of the shipment record on this package for me - I'm not talking about the physical invoice, but the actual holo-record on who handled the shipment - I'll have the proof against Wellesley I need to kick off a full scale audit."
"What even makes you think that Wellesley is the one who handled the shipment?"
"Come on, Ex... think. What company has enough clout to be able to get a shipment through customs without it going through a full-scale cargo scan? There's only one - Wellesley."
"All right, just say for a second that I am going to pick up a package for Tamper. What makes you think Earthgov customs is going to just hand me over the shipment records? That kind stuff is government property, isn't it?"
"Yes, and no. You're right - normally a civilian couldn't get access to those, but... there is one exception. There's a special clause under the Information Act of 2995 that says that any publicly-held government info can be examined upon request... by a member of the press."
"OK, so why don't you just do it yourself, then?"
"I can't. That info is only held until a package is retrieved. There's just not enough time for me to get the clearance I need to get in the facility before you're due to check it out. It's got to be in the next few days."
"So... what... I'm just supposed to pretend I'm a reporter to the customs officials? How in the world do you expect me to pull that one off?"
"That's why we're here. You have your Omnicom on you?"
"Yeah..." I reached into my jacket and pulled out my Com. Marlowe looked at it.
"A 3008? A little old, isn't it? Well... it will have to do."
"Wait... have to do for what?"
"I can have the Enquirer issue you temporary press credentials. I just need to take this upstairs for a sec."
"Whoa... hold on, Phil. I can appreciate that you're over a barrel here - and, yeah, I get what you're saying about me having the best chance for access to this info - but come on... that's a hell of a risk you're asking me to take, here. You want me to lie to Earthgov about being a member of the press, for something that you don't even know for sure is true. What am I getting out of this whole thing?"
"Always thinking with your wallet, eh, Ex?"
"No, no... it's not that... well... not just that... it's..."
"I know, I know... trust me, I know the risk you're taking. Listen, Ex... I would never ask you something like this if I didn't feel it was big. This might be the biggest story in my career. You do me this favor - and really, you don't even have to take the records, just get me a quick scan - and I'm willing to give your company, Exnihil Productions, the right to first refusal on any adaptations of my stories... for the next ten years."
I looked at Phil, then back at Emily - who was still half grinning, half staring at me intently. This whole thing was crazier than a Bismollian who'd been nibbling on a Miracle Machine. I didn't have the slightest idea what any of this had to do with my situation, but obviously Emily had a plan going on here. I had to get her alone to talk. I sighed and turned back to Marlowe, handing him my Omnicom.
"Fine. OK, Phil... go load up the credentials. I'm not making you any promises, OK? But, if I get to Earth and feel comfortable with the whole situation then... yeah, sure... I'll see if I can get you these scans."
Marlowe beamed. "That's great, Ex! Trust me, you're not going to regret this. I'll be right back."
He exited the hovercar and bounded up the steps of the Enquirer building as I turned back to Emily, still sitting there in her chauffeur's cap, grinning at me like Zeroxian archmage.
"You look ridiculous - you know that, don't you?"
"Whatever, Nihil. Clearly you don't know the first thing about espionage."
"I know that you don't go riding around on Outer Rim shuttles - in a paid-for seat, no less - chatting up some fringe tabloid reporter... unless you're after something. What the hell are you trying to do here, Em?"
"Grife, Nihil! What have I been trying to do since day one? I'm trying to save your ass! Your little girlfriend, Lotta Handsome, is now officially dead, right? How long you think it's going to be before the Security Office comes pounding on your door again?"
"You think I don't know that? But how is all this stuff supposed to help me? What is Marlowe going to give me that's going to help me clear my name?"
"In about five minutes, he's going to give you the only thing that can!"
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"Enough already with this whole enigma routine, Emily! This has to stop. You go into radio silence for three weeks, and then show up with this nonsense... on the day of Lotta's funeral, no less? I'm glad you're having fun playing superspy and all, but you had better start spilling with some straight answers... and pronto!"
"Don't you yell at me, Nihil! I'm the one who's been taking all the risks - for almost a month here - while you've been spending all your time chasing after some pretty girl who was only trying to set you up. Which - by the way - I shouldn't have to remind you... is the exact same thing that got you into this in the first place!"
"Is that what this is about? Don't tell me you're actually jealous?"
"Arrrghh!" Emily balled up her fists and, clenching her teeth, turned an almost disturbing shade of red. "Nihil... so help me... if you don't shut your mouth, right now, I'm about to fix it so you'll never be able to go skirt-chasing again!"
I backed down. "All right, all right... just cool your heels. I know this whole thing has to have some semblance of sanity at the bottom, so... fine... what's going on here?"
Emily stared at me for another couple of seconds, then slowly began to calm down. "Fine... Marlowe's going to be back down any minute, so I just need you shut up and listen, OK?"
"I'm listening."
She sighed. "OK... so I told you I was going to track down this boxer, right... the Red Fist?"
"Yeah, Eddie Stilton told you he'd be the one to have the real story on Lotta."
"Right... well - I found him, all right - but, trust me, it's easier to break out of the Super Stalag of Space than to get in to see the guy. He's got his big comeback fight happening in Sino-Koreapolis in a couple weeks, and his training camp is locked down tighter than one of Grimbor's practice dummies. And with good reason. Apparently, the location of this fight is no coincidence. It's the exact same venue where he got caught taking a dive years ago... the fight that wound up getting him banned from the Association for years."
"Yeah, I know. I came across that same info when I was doing my digging."
"Yeah? Well, what you probably didn't know is that - even after all this time, old Red still has a target the size of Alderan on his back in Sino-Koreapolis. If you know about the dive, then you probably know that it was Molock Handsome himself that ordered Red to take it. Well, apparently, for as much of a hood as he was on Legion World, Handsome was just about public enemy number one in Sino-Koreapolis. Some really bad blood that goes back twenty years. Some thing about Molock taking a sword to the local mob boss's neck. Sound familiar?"
It absolutely did. This was the same story that My Whee Fem had told me. It was My's real father that Handsome had killed but, reading Emily's face, I knew she didn't know that part. She was just talking about the fact that this mob boss was done in the same way as Lotta - and the same way that somebody had attacked Stilton. I just nodded.
"I thought so. Well, get this - it turns out that the new boss in town had laid down a pretty hefty bet that night for Red to take the fight. You can probably imagine, once word got out that it was Handsome that had fixed the fight, what had just been bad blood turned into an all-out vendetta. The entire Sino-Koreapolis underworld declared a price on the head of both Handsome... and the Red Fist. Well, you know Handsome didn't live long enough for anybody to collect on him, but it's still open season on Red. That's why this fight is taking place there. It's Red's way of spitting in the face of everybody that took him down once - to show them that he's not afraid. It really is "The Return of the Fist" in more ways than one."
"This is all great, Em... but how's any of it tie into me."
"I'm getting to that. So, yeah - Red thinks he's taking on the world, but he's no dummy. He has a crew of bodyguards with him around the clock to prevent any would-be assassins from trying to collect the bounty on his head. It's next to impossible to get him alone."
"Let me guess, though... somehow you did?"
"What... did you have a doubt about that, or something?"
"How?"
"Oh, now you want to know about espionage? Forget it, Nihil - trade secret. It took some doing, trust me, but I eventually got in to talk to Red alone. I told him I had talked to Stilton - and that I knew he had the word on Lotta. It turns out that the day before he left Legion World for Earth, Red met with Stilton... and with Lotta. I'll give you exactly one guess what day that was. Yep... Klordny."
"What?! You're telling me the Red Fist talked to Lotta the same day she was murdered? Bloody Liberty! Emily... what does he know?"
"Something that he says can get the Security Office off your back and clear your name for good. Only..."
"Only what?"
"Only, he wants something in return. He says that you have something he wants. Some clip of holo-film that only you, him and Stilton know about. Apparently it's some clip of Stilton talking about the dive... something that didn't make it into your Primary Color Gang documentary? He says that if you can deliver this to him - in person - then he'll come clean about what he knows went down the night Lotta was killed. So... I'm seriously hoping you know what this guy is talking about... or I just spent a month undercover for nothing."
I swallowed, "Yeah... yeah, I know the clip he's talking about. But... that's it? I bring him this clip - and he goes public with the truth on Lotta?"
"That's what he says."
"And you buy it?"
"Nihil, I've spent years reading people. Trust me, this guy is on the level."
"Well, I suppose that's that, then - I have to give this a go. But... seeing as how I don't have your... uh... skills for espionage, how am I supposed to get in to see this guy?"
Emily never got a chance to answer me, though, because, just then, the door to the hovercar opened.
"All set, Ex," Marlowe handed me back my Omnicom, "You now have the press credentials high enough to open up whatever doors you might run into." I looked back at Emily, as she winked at me.
When all this was over, I might have to buy her that dinner at the Beacon, after all.
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"You're awful quiet back there, Nihil... how's it look?"
Emily turned the corner, shooting me a look in the rear view holo-screen as I continued to scan through my Omnicom at the info Marlowe had loaded. He had told me, before we had left him at the Enquirer, to make sure that I was familiar enough with my creds to be able to field any questions. If all else failed, he said, the phrase, "That's confidential" was usually a reporter's best friend.
"Yeah... yeah, it looks OK, Em. Marlowe was pretty thorough. But why all the smoke and mirrors? If the Red Fist wants to talk to me, why doesn't he just tell his security guys to let me in?"
"It's not Red that's the problem. If it was up to him, he'd be doing daily windsprints through downtown Beijing. Seriously... the guy's got a set made of inertron. But the government isn't having any of it. They need the money this fight is going to bring in, but the local gov is walking on elvabird shells. For as much as they'd like to pretend they're in charge, the Sino-Koreapolian mob is still incredibly powerful. They're going to do whatever it takes to get to Red. The only way the government would even sanction this fight happening is if they provided the security."
"Wonderful... so I'll be lying to the government."
"Twice, if you actually go through with Marlowe's plan."
"Grife, Em... since when did trying to not get arrested suddenly involve me committing a bunch of crimes."
"Since the moment you decided to hightail it out of Lotta's hotel without calling the Security Office. Now, get it together, Nihil. In a week or two this whole thing is going to be just a distant memory, and my responsibility for you will be over."
"Your responsibility?"
"Yeah. Did you really think I'm doing all this because I actually like you or something? Please. You're the most infuriating man I've ever met but... you're my partner. You asked me to help you out that night at SHAKES, and that's what I'm going to do until you're free and clear."
"What... is that like the Emily Sivana code of honor or something?"
"Listen, this won't do any good. You'll never understand me, but I'll try once, and then give it up. When somebody's partner is in trouble, she's supposed to do something about it. It makes no difference what you think of him. He's your partner, and you're supposed to do something about it... and it happens we're Legion Worlders. Well, when somebody here gets killed, it's... it's bad business to let the killer get away with it. Bad all around. Bad for everybody on Legion World."
I looked at Emily's eyes in the rear view holo. I'd never heard her talk like this before, almost like she had a soft side. Well... not on my watch. I grinned.
"Yeah... you like me."
"Out, Nihil."
She pulled in front of Exnihil Productions, and put it in park. "You've got a lot of stuff to wrap up before you head off to Earth tomorrow and time's wasting. I'll make contact with you again when your shuttle docks."
I climbed out of the hovercar but, suddenly remembering something, turned back to Emily's window.
"Say... that's another thing. How did you even know I was leaving tomorrow? Tamper Lad didn't even tell me that until a couple hours ago."
"Grife, give me some credit, will you? When I saw Marlowe boarding the shuttle, I realized I had a golden opportunity. Instead of stowing in the cargo hold like I was planning, I just hacked into the shuttle's ticketing system and booked myself the seat next to him. Since I was in there, I figured I'd better check to see if there was any booking activity from Legion World to Earth in the next week or so, and that's when I saw the four tickets that Tamper Lad reserved. I swear, Nihil... talking to you is like talking to a Vornian slith."
She shifted out of park and drove off, as I smiled and typed in the security code to my office building. As the door shushed open, I suddenly did a double take.
"Wait... four?"
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Four tickets... what was Tamper playing at this time?
As I rode the airlift up to my screening room, I tried to puzzle out what he could have in mind, but - if I'd learned one thing since I first got looped into his scheme - it was that, with Tamper, I always had about as much idea of where I stood as a character in a Rob Liefeld drawing.
Well, I wasn't gonna waste any more brainpower on it - another couple hours and I'd know for sure. For now, I had bigger things to take care of. In a little over half a day, I'd be on a shuttle bound for Earth for who knew how long. I knew that Effie could keep Exnihil Productions trucking along - hell, she'd been doing that exact thing since the day I hired her - but, I figured I'd better at least leave her word of where I'd be. And, of course, I had to grab that footage that the Red Fist seemed so hot on.
The whole thing still seemed a little crazy to me. Emily said Red was holding on to something that would help me skate out on the whole Lotta business but, before he'd give it up, he wanted me to hand deliver that holo-clip. I'd watched that clip and - although at the time it seemed about the nearest to a clue I'd be likely to find - I couldn't figure why Red wanted me to jump through so many hoops to get it to him.
What was in it that was so important? I thought back, trying to remember what it had said. I remembered that it was an interview with a pretty broken-up Eddie Stilton talking about the bum hand that he'd helped Red get dealt. He'd talked about Red running around with Lotta Handsome back in the day, and how, once Eddie had blown the whistle, her old man had put a stop to it. It talked about the dive Red took, and him getting booted from the Association, having to turn to petty crime to keep his head above water.
It was a sorry story, sure, but it didn't seem like anything in it was a big enough secret that anybody with half a mind would need a drill beast to unearth it. The dive was a matter of public record. All anybody'd have to do was scan some news holos from the time to read about Red getting banned. The crime stuff? Well, Red had been in the Primary Color Gang during some of the biggest clashes with the LMB - done time for it even. It's not like that wasn't all over the news. And him and Lotta? I could see, with everything that had gone down with her - and especially with the fact that Emily clued me in the Red had seen Lotta that Klordny - that he might not want people connecting the two, but all the clip talked about was their ancient history, and I couldn't figure that Stilton gabbing away on some holo clip was the only proof of that.
It had to be something more.
Maybe something that wasn't said on it. I remembered that the editors had marked the clip as "libel". At the time I'd figured that had something to do with the fact that Stilton was laying out personal info about two people based on second-hand info, or maybe on account of that fact that he'd linked a mob boss to the Boxing Association's business... but what if it was something else? Well... one thing was sure - I wasn't gonna figure it out here. The answer lay with Red.
I exited the lift into my screening room. It was still a mess from the last time I'd been up there a week prior, with stacks of clips and old news holos all over the joint. After My Whee had been up to give me the news about Lotta being declared dead, I didn't have the strength to keep going through anymore of this stuff. I'd told myself it the weight of the knowledge that - with Lotta now officially R.I.P. - time was running out for me to steer clear of it all. Yeah... that's what I told myself. But even I knew that story was about as believable as a Kryptonian hiding behind a pair of spectacles.
No... it was My.
Even now I can see her face, looking genuinely hurt when I'd given her the cold shoulder. The girl had opened up to me - told me all that stuff about her father, and about how much she hated the Handsome family - and I'd just shut her out. And for what? Because I was so concerned with saving my own hide that I'd started seeing threats coming at me from every direction. Who knows, Matt... maybe My was working with you to bring me down but... you know what? Maybe she wasn't.
I was innocent, I knew that. If My was only cottoning up to me to see what I knew then... so what? In a week or two, I could be scott free, and then it wouldn't matter what she'd been doing. It was her job and, to be honest, hadn't I been doing the exact same thing, that first night when I met her at Cramer's? Hadn't I been playing her, just to try to get some inside skinny on what the Security Office was holding? Yeah, I was holding on to a double standard bigger than a Janusian's political leanings, and had played a real heel move with her.
What had Tamper said? That this was a day for final farewells? Well, maybe it was but - then again - maybe it was also a day for second chances.
The next day I'd be on that shuttle - heading into god only knew what. I was rolling the dice that Tamper Lad, of all people, wasn't planning a double cross; I was taking a risk for Marlowe that could, just as easily, wind up earning me a one way ticket to Takron-Galtos; I was walking blind into a lion's den of Earthgov security forces to meet with a heavyweight fighter that could knock off my block if he looked at me too hard. Everything in my life was stacked up against me, and I might never even get a chance to see the one bit of beauty in this whole mess that I'd had the good luck to have thrown my way.
Like hell.
I grabbed the holoclip and headed back to the airlift with a purpose.
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Checking my Omnicom to keep an eye on the clock, I made my way downtown.
It was a Sunday afternoon, so I knew My Whee had the day off. I knew that she liked relaxing at Cafe Cramer, so I headed over that way - just taking a gamble that I might find her there. In my crazy head, I was imagining her all curled up with a book or something, the same way I'd seen her before. It was just a sappy fantasy, I know, but - with everything going on my head - I guess I needed to hold on to something nice.
I arrived at the neighborhood where Cramer's was and, sure enough, there was My's hovercar parked outside. I started to cross the block to head in when, all of a sudden, I stopped dead in my tracks. Looking through the front window of Cramer's, I saw My sitting there at a table, hunched over an Omnipad - but she wasn't sitting alone.
Right across from her - pointing down at the pad like he was explaining something very serious to her - was my soon-to-be partner in crime... Kid Quislet!
I made a beeline to the left, ducking around a corner. The two of them had looked deep into conversation, so I was pretty sure they hadn't spotted me, but - I got to admit - I was a little dumbfounded by the whole thing. What business did the two of them have together?
Kid Quislet had told me - that day after Tamper had me pulled in - that his whole "gambling problem" deal had been nothing but an act. He said that the whole thing had been cooked up by the Security Office as part of some sting operation. They were having him act as bait, he told me, trying to get Tamper Lad to bite so they could get a man inside. I admit - even as he'd been telling it to me - Kid Quislet's cockamamie story had sounded about as believable as somebody named "Nemesis Kid" passing himself off as a hero.
And, yet... here we were, heading off to Earth together tomorrow for Tamper Lad's scheme, and I see him meeting with a Security Officer. Maybe he was on the level. I suppose it was easy enough to find out. What if I were to just waltz into Cramer's right then? If it was part of the whole plan, they couldn't just lock me out, seeing as how one word from me to Tamper could queer the whole deal.
As I stood there making up my mind, though, I wound up losing my chance. Suddenly, I heard the jingle of Cramer's door and, sneaking a peek around the corner, saw Kid Quislet exiting and heading the opposite way. Damn. Oh, well... I suppose I had a whole shuttle ride to grill that guy for info.
For now, I had a more immediate problem to deal with. I'd come all the way down here - fired up like a Mark V rocket thruster... now what the hell was I going to say to My?
I tossed my caution to the wind and walked inside.
"Uh... hello, My."
She looked up from her Omnipad, confused for a moment, but then her eyes narrowed.
"Oh... you. I'm a little busy, right now, Mr. Nihil... why don't you just..."
"Listen, My," I interrupted and, uninvited, sat down across from her, "I know what you're going to say. I acted like a grade-A heel the other day. I just... I just wanted to say I was sorry."
She looked at me incredulously. "Wh... look... you don't have anything to apologize for, OK? I'm sure you're a busy man."
"No, I was wrong to brush you off like that, especially after you..."
"Mr. Nihil..." she interrupted.
"Ex."
"Fine... Ex... whatever... I'm sure you're a wonderful guy, and all that. I've no doubt that you've got a hundred little holo-starlets waiting by their Omnicom for you to call, but - believe me - this is really the last thing I need right now. I've got too much going on in my life to play whatever little game this is supposed to be."
"It's not a game, My. I made a stupid mistake - I know that, now."
She closed her Omnipad and sighed. "You really are amazing, you know that? Do you even think before you act? Or do you just run around, hoping that the person you accidentally run into will be the one who has all the answers?"
"Wh...?"
"Today! Today of all days... after everything I told you... somehow you thought that coming to me the day of Lotta Handsome's funeral to apologize for not calling me was a good idea? Did it cross your mind for a second that the entirety of Legion World might not revolve around Exnihil and his problems?"
"I... uh..."
My Whee looked at me, and I guess she suddenly realized how loud she was talking, because - almost visibly - I saw her face change. She regained her composure and continued.
"Wow... I'm sorry, that was way out of line. Look, Ex... you seem like a nice guy, and all. We had a nice time that night - you made me laugh. But, honestly, I've really just got too much on my plate right now to worry about things like this. If circumstances were different... but - right now... they're not."
I didn't know what I'd been expecting. I'd only had one date with the girl - half a date, at that - then ignored her for almost two weeks. Whatever was going on with her, she was well within her rights to not want a repeat performance. Part of me was going to ask her if any of this had to do with Kid Quislet - but I thought better of it. It wasn't the time and, besides, I'd have nothing but time with Kid Quis on the shuttle tomorrow. Instead, I just stood up.
"No, I get it, My. Fair enough. I want you to know that I really am sorry, though... for everything."
She shook her head. "It's fine."
"So, I guess this is goodbye."
"Well, there's no need to be overly dramatic about it. It's not like we'll never see each other again."
"Yeah, I know, it's just..."
I looked at her, trying to discern what she knew. What was I thinking... this was ridiculous. She was just with Kid Quislet, and I knew for a fact the Security Office was working to bring Tamper down. She had to know. I looked into her eyes but - like it always was with My - it was like trying to read a poker player. I decided to go all in.
"Well... you know... I'm heading to Earth, tomorrow... to retrieve that package for Tamper Lad?"
The color drained from My's face.
"You're doing what???"
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"Ex... what possible reason could you have for agreeing to that? I know that the holo business has its shady side, but... Tamper Lad? That guy is mixed up in a lot of bad stuff. If you knew how long the Security Office had been trying to... are you in some kind of trouble?"
I looked at My Whee for some sign that she was playing with me - that this was just an act.
Was it possible she didn't know what was going on with me? Had I been calling it wrong all these weeks? I knew that Tamper had made the evidence linking me to Lotta's death go missing, so I knew My wouldn't have seen that... but what about everything else?
For starters - if Kid Quislet was the Security Office's man inside Tamper's org, then she had to be in the know about the sting. For god's sake... she was just talking to the guy. And what about the morning of Lotta's murder, when I had seen My on the beach? The way Emily told it, I was sure there was no way she could have missed seeing me there. And if My wasn't gunning for me, then why - the day that Lotta had been declared dead - did she specifically make it a point to come to my office to tell me about it?
Suddenly it all clicked.
All at once, I felt like a bigger heel than bottom of Gim Allon's boot. My Whee hadn't come to my office that day to tell me about Lotta for my sake... she'd come for hers.
The night we rode to Eddie Stilton's together - the night of our interrupted date - she'd all but laid it out for me. She'd told me how - when she was a little girl - her parents had been murdered by Molock Handsome, and how she was shipped off to the Legion World Orphanage. She'd said that - even to this day - every time she'd see Junior or Lotta's name in the news, she was reminded of the pain of losing her family.
That's a pretty heavy weight to be carrying in the first place - and then to be assigned as the evidence handler in Lotta's disappearance? That can't have been easy for her. To top it all off, Eddie Stilton - the only guy My even still remembered from her life before losing her parents - winds up in a coma after getting attacked in the exact same way as her folks did.
My said she wasn't the kind of girl who shared a lot, and yet - she shared all that... with me. The day that Lotta was officially declared dead, she must have come to my office looking for somebody to talk to - but I was so caught up in my own paranoia I couldn't see it.
Grife... I couldn't blame this gal one bit for not wanting to talk to me again.
I sat down.
"My... I've got to ask you something - and I wouldn't you blame you one bit if you didn't tell me - but, I've got to know... am I a suspect in the Lotta Handsome murder?"
My Whee started, clearly taken aback. "I... I'm sorry... what?"
"Look... I know Matlock has been on this case from day one - before it was even being called a murder. In all that time, has my name come up as a suspect?"
"I don't even know how to answer that. Of course not. I mean... well... to the best of my knowledge... no. I'm only the evidence handler in the case, but... no, I think I would have heard something. I mean... Matt knows that I know you. Why would you even think that?"
I had to tread very carefully here. If my name wasn't connected to the investigation, I didn't want to start giving the Security Office any reasons why it should be.
"I don't know... I mean, I told you that I'd met Lotta the night she went missing... and then - the night of Stilton's attack - Matlock seemed like he was..."
"Eddie Stilton? What makes you think that the Stilton attack is at all connected to Lotta Handsome? You're making it sound like there is some sort of sinister plot to..."
"Ah! Exactly! That's the exact thing Matlock said... 'sinister'. He kept going on about how the Stilton attack was done by somebody who was 'sinister'... left-handed. And then - the day he questioned me about Lotta - he made a point about me being left-handed. That guy is gunning for me."
My shook her head. "Ex... you're talking crazy. That's just a thing of Matt's. He's always going on about antique crime solving methods... fingerprints... and stray hairs... and whether somebody is left- or right- handed. He's just an old school-detective at heart. Trust me, almost half the evidence that comes across my desk is minutia like that from Matlock. If all he was looking at is whether or not the killer is left-handed, he'd have to question half of Legion World. I mean, even I'm ambidextrous. I taught myself how to use both hands equally well as part of my martial arts training."
"So... I'm not a suspect?"
"I can't tell you that for sure - I'm not privy to everything that goes on in the department - but I would highly doubt it."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Well... I can't speak for the Handsome case, but... at least with regard to Eddie Stilton... Forensics thinks they've determined that the weapon used had to be some sort of small sword - like a Sino-Koreapolian hwando, or something."
"How does that eliminate me?"
My snickered slightly. "Ex... no offense, but I've spent over half my life training in the martial arts. I think I have a fairly good eye for sizing up an opponent. You really don't look like the type who has spent a lot of time swinging a sword."
"I don't know whether to feel relieved or offended."
"Offended." My smiled. "So, is that why you've been acting so crazy this whole time? Because you thought the Security Office was after you?"
"Crazy, huh?"
"Just a bit. But none of this explains why you're planning on going to Earth for Tamper Lad. Did he somehow give you the idea that you were a suspect? Is he trying to blackmail you, or something? Whatever this is, we can help you. Let's just go to Matlock and..."
"My..." I said, quickly changing the subject, "....is the Security Office working to take down Tamper Lad?"
Her eyes darted down, almost imperceptibly, toward her Omnipad - then back to mine. "Ex... even if they were, you know I couldn't talk about that. That's confidential."
I grinned.
That was all the confirmation I needed. As crazy as it sounded, Kid Quislet was a Security Office mole. Whatever they were working, it was clear that this trip to Earth was the key. Well... if Kid Quis wanted to risk his neck playing undercover man for Matlock... let him.
If I believed My Whee, there wasn't any good reason for me to even get involved. Whatever info the Red Fist was holding onto... whatever backhanded dealings Marlowe was trying to suss out... whatever god knew what Tamper Lad was trying to pull... apparently none of it was my business.
And the crazy thing was... I did believe her.
I stood up again.
"Listen, My... I've got to go. I'm sorry I looped you into to all this crazy rambling, but I think you've just given me exactly what I need to put an end to all this."
"So, you're not going to Earth?"
I shook my head. "I've got to go have a little chat with somebody, but - when all this is over - do you think I can call you?"
"Good lord, Ex... are you serious? After all this, you're still trying to hit on me?"
"Is that a no?"
"Goodbye, Ex."
I grinned at My Whee, and walked toward the door of the cafe, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off of my shoulders.
Little did I realize that - inside of an hour - I'd know that was just numbness setting in... before I was crushed.
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I stormed into the Wellesley Room of the Evil Genius Supper Club, walking toward Tamper Lad, who was at the bar with his back toward me.
"Ah... Mr. Nihil... you're early..." He turned around, eyeing his brandy as he swirled it, before slowly looking up to meet me. He sighed. "...aaaand you're still wearing the same suit. Tt... tt... tt... I'm afraid our partnership is going to be rather short-lived if you're not able to maintain a slightly higher sense of decorum."
Before I could respond, Tamper's two bodyguards came running around through the door behind me, slightly out of breath.
"No, no..." Tamper held up a hand to them. "Mr. Nihil is my invited guest this evening - although he does demonstrate a rather misguided sense of timing. I'm certain the both of you would understand. Dismissed."
The larger of the two goons - the one who had punched me two weeks before - shot me a dirty look. I narrowed my eyes and snorted slightly as they left, closing the door behind them.
I turned back to Tamper Lad.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, pal - but there isn't gonna be any 'partnership'. I'm out."
"Yes... you had indicated as much. I apologize if I'm being a bit obtuse here - I wasn't quite prepared for your company this early, you understand - but, what is it exactly that you believe you are 'out' of?"
"The whole thing. I'm not going to Earth tomorrow. I'm not picking up your 'Malachite Middlefinger', or whatever it is. And I'm not playing along with your whole 'puppet-master' charade for another minute."
I stood there, not quite knowing what to say to that, as Tamper placed his brandy down on the table and returned to the bar. He called back to me, "You enjoy a Khundish Martini, correct?"
"Tamper... I'm serious. I know you think you've got something over me, but I talked to the Security Office and they aren't even looking at me for the Lotta Handsome case. That little farce you played with the tracking info from Lotta's Com? For all I know, that could have been as much for your own..."
Even as the words were coming out, it dawned on me. Tamper turned back and grinned.
"It was!" I shook my head. "You had just as much to lose if that info came back linking her movements to you as I did to me. You were planning on that evidence going missing whether I agreed to play along with you or not, weren't you?"
"Guilty." Tamper placed a freshly-made martini on the table and sat down in his chair. "I must admit, however, it did make recruiting you to my cause quite a bit easier."
"Well, you can forget it. There's absolutely no good reason I should go trekking halfway across the galaxy for you to pick up some dingus. You've still got that shyster, Kid Quislet in your pocket. Let him be your errand boy."
"No... no, I'm afraid that's not possible."
"And why not, exactly?"
Against my better judgment, I sat down. I didn't really care what he had to say, but I figured I owed it to My Whee to hear him out if he was going to lay down some intel about Kid Quislet.
"That exact matter is what I had invited you over to discuss this evening. It really is a pity you decided to arrive so early. I had a wonderful meal planned. My chef was to have prepared a delightful Llornish Game Hen, followed by..."
"Can the run down of the blue-plate specials, all right? What the hell are you playing at?"
Tamper narrowed his eyes. "Mmmm... always the impatient one, aren't you, Mr. Nihil? Well - if you must know - it's quite impossible for Mr. Quislet to retrieve my property for me... as he will not be traveling to Earth with you."
I raised my eyebrow involuntarily. Well, that little piece of info was going to throw a wrench into the Security Office's plans. Without their man on the inside to see through this illegal shipment, they might not be able to pin anything on Tamper. I took a sip from my martini.
"Oh, no?" I replied, trying to sound casual. "And why's that?"
Tamper stood up, crossing his hands behind his back. He began to stroll idly around the room.
"You are a man of influence in your chosen field, aren't you, Mr. Nihil? A man of power?"
I chuckled slightly, taking another sip. "Well... that might be putting it a little strongly. I do my fair share of grubbing."
"Yes... well... all those who rise through the ranks must initially put forth a good deal of labor to achieve their status. But when it comes time to reap the fruit of that labor... well, that, Mr. Nihil... that is the time when one must be ever vigilant against the worms."
"Worms?"
Tamper turned to face me.
"Yes... worms, Mr. Nihil. Men such as we live precarious lives, surely you must realize that. For half of those lives we spend our time climbing to the highest precipice... and the other half? The other half we spend defending that position from those who would attempt to usurp it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Tamper." I tossed back the rest of my drink.
"It is not unknown to me that - for some time - the Legion World Security Office has been attempting to infiltrate my organization. Turn about is fair play, and all that - I've had my own men positioned within their hallowed halls for years. But, it has recently come to my attention that there have been certain... sensitive... pieces of information which have - quite to my displeasure - reached the ears of those who would attempt to usurp me. I believe - after all this time - the Security Office has finally been successful in their quest."
"You've got a mow... um... a mole?" I was starting to slur a bit. That drink must have been stronger than I thought.
"Indeed... a mole. And - as with any vermin - it is imperative that, at the first sign of infestation, the pest must be eliminated... else we would soon find ourselves overrun."
I didn't like where this was going. I pushed my chair back and stood up, a little uneasy on my feet. Tamper continued talking.
"I pride myself on the efficiency of my organization. I have not reached the position I hold by being a man of indecision. As I have said, I'm afraid that - regardless of your misgivings - it really does have to be you who completes the retrieval of my property. You see, Mr. Quislet will not be completing the journey to Earth with you. He will be traveling with you on the initial leg - the both of you accompanied by my two men, of course - but then the group of you will be making a slight detour. To Luna."
"The mmooo..." My tongue felt heavy and thick in my mouth as the room began to spin.
"The moon of Terra, quite correct. It is there that Mr. Quislet will, unfortunately, be departing your company... quite permanently, I'm afraid. It is a pity that I will not have the legal representation I had wished present during the retrieval of my property, but it cannot be avoided. An organization such as mine simply cannot allow breaches of this nature to go unattended."
I tried to lunge for Tamper Lad, but the floor itself seemed miles away.
"No... that's quite all right, Mr Nihil. I think you'll find that the sedative I placed in your drink will make movements of that sort quite difficult."
My foot took a misstep, and blackness started to creep around my eyes as I fell. The last thing I heard were Tamper's words, fading into the distance as I began losing consciousness.
"Well, it seems you were correct, after all, Mr. Nihil - you are, in fact, out."
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I was laying on the mat... the roar of the crowd filling my ears.
A man stood over me, yelling - but my head was deep in a fog. I tried to look up at him and speak, but the words just garbled in my mouth.
"Uuuhhh... whuuuh?" The sound came out of me, slow and slurred. With every bit of effort I could summon, I forced myself to my feet as the man leaned in close to my face, his voice shouting again.
"Hooooow maaaaaaany fiiiiiingers?" he shouted. The fog began to lift, my eyes focusing in on the man in the ref's outfit.
It was Kid Quislet.
"Uuuhhh..." I tried to clear my head. "W.. w... one?" He shook his head, pointing to the corner of the ring where Junior Handsome stood, pounding his gloves together.
"T... two?" Again, Kid Quislet shook his head, pointing to Lotta Handsome, holding the round card.
"Three?" Kid Quislet smiled and nodded, as the bell rang.
"Go to your corner."
All at once, I felt comforted - as though giving him the right answer had made all my troubles float right away. My body filled with relaxation, like everything was going to be all right, now... and forever.
The lights of the crowd flickered like a thousand stars, their steady roar pulsing through me in warm, tangible waves. Smiling, and nodding like a small child, I slowly turning toward my corner... and felt the blade plunge right into my gut.
*************
"Ahhhhhhhh!!!"
I woke up, screaming.
"Shaddap, back there, already! If I gotta listen ta ya moanin' and groanin' fer another minute back there, I'm gonna give ya somethin' to moan about!"
I clenched my eyes together again, trying to clear the fog out of my head. My whole body ached, and my throat felt as scratchy as the inside of a parakat's cage. "Whu... where am I?"
"Right now? Yer about twenty minutes from da shuttle port. Just kick back and enjoy da ride, huh?"
"Unnnhh..." I rubbed my eyes with the balls of my palms, then looked around. I was in the back seat of a hovercar - with one of Tamper Lad's goons at the controls. "Shuttle port... h... how did I get here?"
"Yer a real thinker, ain'tcha, Nee-hill? I hadda just about drag you in. You was out pretty hard."
"Out?" My mind was coming around in a hurry, as I started to remember what happened. "Tamper Lad! What the hell did he dose me with?"
"Search me, bub. Somethin' pretty strong I'd say, from da looks of ya. You been out all night."
"All night?" My brain was starting to function. "So we're...?"
"...on da way to the shuttle, yeah. I already said dat. Get it together, willya? I don't need no funny looks from da 'port cops wit you lookin' all hopped up. We gotta getcha to Luna in one piece."
Luna... Kid Quislet! I all but jumped out of my seat.
"Where is...?"
"Just siddown, huh? If yer wonderin' about the shyster, he's in the other hover wit Rocco. I was hopin' you'd wake up. Give us time to have a little chat before we get da two of ya together."
"Get us togeth.... wait... Tamper honestly thinks I'm getting on that shuttle? I'm just supposed to sit here and let this go down? I know why we're going to Luna! You're planning on killing that guy! You do know there are Space Rangers at shuttle ports, don't you? What's stopping me from flagging one down as soon as we get there and blowing the whistle before we even leave Legion World?"
"You like da beach, Mistuh Nee-hill?"
"I... I'm sorry... what?"
He cracked his knuckles and - looking at me in the real holo projection - smirked like he'd just read a three panel Hembeck strip.
"Da beach. Sand... sun... water. Me? I love da beach."
"Good for you... what the hell is this supposed to...?"
"But..." he interrupted me, "I don't really got a lot a time to go, ya know? On account a da job, and all. Well... you know how it is."
"Does this have a point?
"It does... yeah. Trust me, dis is a good story. It's... uh, waddyacallit... relevant. See - a couple weeks back - I get this crazy job. Yer gonna love dis. Fer two weeks straight - right - I get set up in a room at Zaryan's. You know the Casino, doncha? Yeah, course you do, what am I talkin' about? So, it's top floor... balcony... whole nine yards. Great view of da beach. And alls I gotta do... is watch."
I grew very silent.
"Now... me? I like to get up pretty early. Dat's da best time, ya know - before anybody else is awake? Well... I say anybody... but dat's not all true. Dere is dis one little gal who gets up pretty early, too. Wow! Cutest little thing you ever seen. Chinese girl... or Korean... I dunno, sumthin'. Now, her? She's down on dat beach every mornin'. I guess she likes da quiet... ta do exercisin' and stuff like dat."
My face started to get warm.
"But I'm thinking... dat's prolly not a good idea, ya know? Doin' somethin' all da time like dat? Every day. Makin' a kinda, uh... waddyacallit? Pattern? 'Cause, ya know... havin' a pattern like dat? It sort of makes a person kinda easy to find. Ya know where dey are. Ya know when dey're gonna be dere. Dat kind of thing leaves a person pretty... exposed... don't ya think?"
I felt the heat rising around me. I let out a sharp laugh.
"You're insane. That girl isn't exposed. She's a freaking martial arts expert! She could take you apart."
"Oh... hey... ya got me all wrong, Mistuh Nee-hill. I ain't suggestin' nothin'. But... it does get ya thinkin', though, don't it? Now dat ya mention it - I suppose it would be sorta silly to go up close against a gal like dat."
He pretended like he was thinking, then made like he suddenly had an idea.
"But, what if - just fer instance - what if it didn't hafta be dat close? Like say... welll... I was up pretty high there at Zaryan's. Say somebody did want to try somethin'. I figure dat's gotta be a much better way to try an' go for somebody like her... don't ya think?"
My blood was starting to boil. I felt my jaw clench.
"Yeah. You get a guy up dere... somebody dat's got a real good eye. And den - when she's doing her little moves out dere... getting all caught up in it... wit her guard down and such..."
He raised his arms in the shape of a blaster rifle.
"Boom."
"You bastard!!!"
I leapt over the seat at the goon, my fist drawn, but - still feeling the effect of having been out so long - he slapped me right back down like I was nothing more than a cockroach bothering a three-worlds time trapper.
"You just siddown, Mistuh Nee-hill. We're almost at da shuttle port. Now you listen, and you listen good. Yer gonna get on dat shuttle... yer gonna go to Luna... and you ain't talkin' to no Space Rangers, ya get me?"
"So that's it, then?" I spat, wiping the blood from my lip with the back of my hand, "That's the big play - I'm just supposed sit by while an innocent man gets murdered... or else an innocent girl gets murdered?"
"Ain't nobody innocent. Dere's a thing dat needs doin', and it's gonna get done. So what's it gonna be?"
"Yeah... like I have some choice here, right? You're basically telling me that if I want to protect My Whee Fem, I've got to let you kill Kid Quislet!"
"Why do ya keep sayin' dat? Huh? Dat we're gonna kill the shyster?"
"Wait... you're not?"
"No... you are."
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When I was a little kid, Matt, I used to be amazed by how many different ways there were to say the same thing.
Take my old man, for instance. My dad had come up through the streets as a kid, so he always put things in a real simple way. Like - whenever he was in a tight spot - he'd always say he was between "a rock and hard place". Now my ma... on the other hand... she'd gotten a real good education, so she'd always pull out some crazy obscure thing, like saying she was "caught between Scylla and Charybdis". Then there was my dad's old friend, Huntz Hall. That guy had a twisted way about him - always putting things in a real dark way, like, "between the devil and the deep blue sea."
I know it was a funny thing to be remembering, right then - as I was getting pushed through Grand Central Spaceport toward that shuttle - but any way you said it... I was stuck. Here I was, on my way to Luna, being told I had to put a blaster shot into Kid Quislet, and - if I didn't - then they were gonna put one in My Whee Fem. I just couldn't see any play that wouldn't end up with somebody dying, or worse - two somebodys.
I couldn't flag down the Rangers at the 'port; I couldn't try to make a break for it; I couldn't even get word to Kid Quislet himself, because Tamper's goons weren't about to give the two of us a moment alone. No matter how I looked at it - the devil had me tied to a rock, sinking me down to the hard place at the bottom of the sea, while old Scylla and Charybdis argued about who'd get to eat me.
They hustled us through the check-in without too much trouble - though I did wind up getting a couple strange looks as I stood there swaying, still trying to shake off the last effects of Tamper's drugging. Then Al - the thug who'd drove me in and laid out the skinny on My Whee - and Rocco, who been driving Kid Quis, led us both into the first-class shuttle room that Tamper had set us up in. Nice and private, just the four of us... all the better for them to keep me from trying anything funny.
"Pretty nice... eh, Ex?" Kid Quislet said, settling himself in, as the shuttle began taking off, "This is high class, right here. I only ever flew in business class for the Firm."
"Yeah... yeah..." Al said, "... it's a real fraggin' luxury cruise, OK? Now quit yer yappin', you two. Dis is a long flight, and I aim ta get some shuteye. You got first watch, Rocco?"
"No problem, Al," Rocco said.
"First watch?" Kid Quislet laughed. "What... does Tamper think we're going to try to jump out of a moving cruiser, or something? He must really be worried about this package, huh?"
"Yeah, he's a just mother hen, all right? Now, shut it."
Kid Quislet looked across to me with a look of fake terror, then grinned, as if to say, "Can you believe these guys?" then kicked back himself, closing his eyes.
I just couldn't peg Kid Quislet. How could he be so calm in all this?
Sure, he didn't know that his number was up - that the stop off on Luna was due to be his final stop off - but he seemed to be taking the whole addition of the other two guys to this trip like it was no big deal. I just couldn't figure it. Was this supposed to be part of the Security Office's plan or something?
It all seemed so convoluted but, the more I starting to think about it... the more it slowly started dawning on me that there really was more going on here than met the eye.
Kid Quislet had told me that the Security Office was setting up a big sting against Tamper - that he'd been laying as bait for a long time before Tamper finally bit, right after Klordny. Tamper was supposed to have gotten this "Malachite Middlefinger" from Lotta that night, but he told me that the deal wound up going south because Junior had already shipped it off to Earth to some anonymous buyer. If I believed what Phil Marlowe said, the package was being shipped through Wellesley Logistics to avoid the cargo scan... but was Junior sharp enough to have realized that?
Unless... unless it was the buyer who requested it go through Wellesley?
Oh my god... I'd been so blind! How had I not realized who this package was being shipped to? It was the Security Office themselves! It all started to fall into place.
The Security Office needed some sort of crime to tie Tamper to... something that was big enough to have real repercussions. The importation of malachite to Earth was a galactic level crime - it violated an interplanetary embargo. Somehow, the Security Office must have gotten wind that Tamper was looking to buy the statuette off Lotta, and seen their in. They must have gone around Lotta and - pretending to be a buyer - approached Junior... knowing that he was strapped for cash. They had him ship it to Earth to violate the embargo, knowing that Tamper would chase it down. Having Junior ship it through Wellesley was just the icing on the cake.
Tamper himself was legally barred from Earth, but that didn't matter. He'd paid Lotta to retrieve it so, legally, she was his agent. As soon as Lotta went to pick it up, they could have nailed her and - in one fell swoop - gotten the goods on both Tamper and Wellesley. But, then... Lotta went "missing". Tamper must have been scrambling and that was when he must have finally bit on the Kid Quislet bait.
Tamper had seen Kid Quis for weeks playing the part of a degenerate gambler. Who better to loop into a scheme like this than some poor schlub who'd be desperate to make a little scratch... and wouldn't squawk about it, for fear of blowing his own spot in the Firm? When Quis accidentally dropped my name into the mix, it must have been like Christmas for Tamper... two patsies for the price of one.
I was betting that package that was sitting there in Earthgov customs was the whole key to the Security Office bringing Tamper down... it had to be.
That's why Kid Quislet was acting as cool as a space-cucumber. As far as he knew, there was probably a squad of Security Office guys waiting at the customs office who would rush in the second the pick-up was made. Adding in of a couple of Tamper's goons didn't make any difference to him - in fact, it would probably make the bust all the easier. He'd probably met with My Whee Fem the day before to go over the plan one more time to make sure everything went off like the Clock of Many Worlds.
Nobody except me even realized there was a huge spanner in the works - Tamper had gotten wise to the double-cross. He might not have known that the package was a set up, but he definitely had Kid Quis pegged as the mole.
If Tamper had his way, Kid Quislet was never even gonna get to Earth . Inside of ten hours, all that was gonna be left of him was another crater on Earth's moon... unless I could figure some way out of this. Ten hours wasn't a long time, but everything is relative. If there were Security Office boys on Earth, they'd be able to make it to Luna in a fraction of that time. But how was I supposed get word to them?
I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.
I felt disgusting. Insult to injury - I never even had time to get to my flat to pack for this whole thing. All I had on me was the suit I wore to Lotta's funeral and whatever I had in my pockets. A few creds, the holoclip I'd nabbed from my office, and my...
No... no, they couldn't have been that dumb.
I waited until I was sure that Rocco was looking away, then - slower than an Ogyptuan watching a dust cloud - I reached into my coat pocket. When my finger finally touched it, it was all I could do not to jump up like I'd bet on the winning kangobronc. I couldn't believe it. They go to all the trouble of knocking me out... dragging me into a hovercar... threatening people I care about... and then leave me with an Omnicom sitting in my pocket?
That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Ex... they keep underestimating you.
I cleared my throat, as Rocco looked over at me.
"Whaddya want?"
"I... uh... I need to go to the bathroom."
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"Give me a break, bub," I said, stepping into the vestibule, "I don't need some ten-credit hood playing babysitter. You think I can get a little privacy here?"
Rocco grunted as I hit the autolock on the shuttle bathroom, the door shushing closed behind me. That guy might not have been the brightest star in the western spiral arm, but he did hit it right on the mark with that one. Whatever I was planned on doing, I had to do it quick, before he started getting wise. I figured I had about ten minutes, tops.
Little did I realize how right I was.
I pulled out my Omnicom and tapped the screen. I couldn't believe those two goons didn't think to frisk me. Well... their mistake was about to be my way out. The screen started firing up, but it was really sluggish.
"C'mon... c'mon..."
I tapped the screen again, trying to get a response. These 3008's could be touchier than a Vulcan trying a mind-meld. Finally, it started to come to life.
"Welcome back, Mr. Nihil. Please state your pass code to continue."
"T...R...U...B...I...L," I whispered.
"Pass code accepted. Hello, Mr. Nihil. How may I help you this morning?"
"Place a call to Legion World... Sivana, Emily."
"Warning... virtual memory at a critical level. Maximum available call length - three minutes. Proceed?"
Three minutes? I looked at the side sensor - it had a full charge. What the sprock was going on here? Something had to be sapping the mem.
"No, cancel call... give me a virtual memory read."
"99.7 percent in use. Largest use, source file - root/LMBEnquirer.cr"
LMB Enquirer! I palmed my face... it was the sprocking credentials that Marlowe had loaded! I knew the 3008 wasn't meant to handle files that big. The damn things were sapping up almost all the space on my Com. I could start dumping them, but that would take too long - and I didn't know if I'd get another chance like this again.
Rocco started banging on the door. "Hurry up, you!"
"Give it a rest, huh?" I shouted back. I had to adjust my plan... and quick.
I'd been planning on calling Emily, then My Whee, and then maybe you, Matt - if I could squeeze that all in without Rocco busting down the door - but it was looking like I only had time for one call. I had to make it count.
"Place a call to Legion World... Fem, My Whee. Cancel memory error alert."
"Calling... calling..."
This had to work. My Whee was my best bet to cover as many bases as I could in one shot. I was praying she picked up.
"Connected..."
I guess those days of playing altar boy as a kid were finally paying off.
"Exnihil? Ex... sigh... look, I'm sorry if I wasn't clear yesterday, but I really don't think we sh..."
"My... please, I don't have a lot of time here," I whispered frantically, "We're both in danger."
"Danger? Ex... what are you talking about now? Your voice sounds strange... you haven't been drinking this early, have you?"
"What? No, I... well... OK, I was drugged last night, but that's not..."
"Drugged???"
"My... seriously... I'm in an emergency situation, here. You've got to listen to me. Whatever the Security Office has planned for Tamper, he knows. I'm on the shuttle right now to..."
"Shuttle? I thought you weren't going to... oh, my god... Ex, what have you done?"
"I didn't really have a choice, OK? I'm on my way to Luna..."
"You're going to... oh, for grife's sake. Look... what you asked me yesterday... about the Security Office working against Tamper? I don't know how you know that but... yes... it's true, OK? I only know about it peripherally - I just process the incoming coms, but - if this is what I think it is - you have to believe me when I say that you are in the middle of something potentially very dangerous, right now. There's a man inside Tamper's org who's planning to..."
"Yeah, yeah... I know all that, OK? I don't have time to recap but... I know. Listen... there's two things I need right now. Number one - you. You've got to stay safe, all right? They've got eyes on - I don't know how often... for all I know, they might be watching you right now."
"Wha... watching me? Who?"
"In the mornings... when you're on the beach... they've got a sniper up in Zaryan's scoping you out. I don't know where else, but you've got to break your pattern... ASAP. And two - I need you to call whoever you have to... talk to Matlock, maybe... those guys the Office has waiting on Earth? They've got to hightail it to Luna... pronto! It's Shuttle 301 from Legion World - Luna - that's where they're planning to bump Kid Quislet."
"Earth? Ex, what are you... there aren't... wait... Kid Quislet? My la... ?"
"Call ended... virtual memory depleted."
Damn it! I kicked the bathroom door.
"Hey! What's going on in there?" Rocco called in.
"Nothing! Just gimme a minute, all right?"
I looked down at the Com. A hundred percent virtual memory used - that was it.
My last best hope for pulling out of this mess without Kid Quislet winding up as part of the dark side of the moon, My Whee getting plugged during a morning stretch, or - even worse - both of those scenarios playing out with maybe me thrown in as the cherry on top of the Martian ice-cream, lay with that single call. I sighed, as I put the Com back in my pocket and released the autolock, the door shushing open.
"Heh... thought ya got sucked out the vaccu-seal in dere. Was kinda hopin' ya did."
"Whatever, ape. Just follow me back to my seat like a good little trained monkey, huh?"
"Get goin', wiseguy," he pushed me, as I started heading back to the room.
My thoughts were going faster than a pair of winged boots on a cosmic treadmill. I only had a handful of hours left until the moment of truth. Would My Whee be able to get in touch with whatever badges were sitting there on Earth, and have them head off Tamper's twin lunkheads at the pass? It was all I had to hold on to - I had to believe she would.
But - as you and I both know, Matt - she wouldn't.
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"Hey... I don't mean to tell you guys your business... but wasn't that the transfer station we just passed?"
Al and Rocco sat silently in the front seat of the rental-hover, ignoring Kid Quislet's question. He turned to me with a look that said, "Do you know what going on?"
What was I gonna do? I felt like Antonio Stefanacci after a tour of the Mystic Arts Museum - I didn't have a single trick left in my bag. I just pursed my lips and looked away out the window.
Where did things go so wrong?
That call I'd made to My Whee had been my last hope of getting out of this mess a free man. I knew I hadn't been able to get a lot of info across but, somehow - in my crazy head - I figured we'd roll into the Luna shuttle port and the Security Office cavalry would just come riding over the hill to slap the cuffs on these two gorilla city rejects. But... no dice. I didn't know if My Whee hadn't been able to get in contact with them... or if she didn't believe me... or if the whole thing was just some crazy dream that I couldn't wake up from. All I knew was, so far, I was on my own.
Through the landing... through deboarding... through security... through the hover rental... through all of it - and not one sign of any boy in blue. With every step I took - with every moment that passed - I felt my fate hanging over my shoulder like a 25th century security bot. This just couldn't be happening. They couldn't make me become the thing that - for over a month - I assumed the Security Office thought I was. They couldn't make me a killer.
But now - as we drove past the last outskirts of Lunaport-1 and into the gray wasteland beyond - the reality of it all started sinking right in. I was out of options. The only other thing that was gonna be through today... was Kid Quislet.
"Seriously, guys..." Kid Quislet said, "We've only got a couple hours before the connection to Terra. What are we doing heading out this way?"
"Shaddap, you." Al called back over his shoulder, "Ya ask a lotta questions for a guy dat went so long without givin' any answers."
"Giving any ans...?" Kid Quislet stopped short. I looked back over at him - his eyes were starting to widen. This guy was looking genuinely scared, and I can't say I blamed him a bit. The Security Office had sent him into the heart of the dralgo's den, then left him hanging there while it just spun him up in a cocoon. He swallowed and tried to continue.
"But... but Tamper knows that I..."
"Tamper don't wanna hear any more of yer excuses."
Excuses? This was a new wrinkle... what the hell was Al talking about? Sure - I didn't know all the ins and outs of what the Office was having Kid Quis play at - but this sounded more involved then Tamper just finding out he was a mole.
"I... I don't..." Kid Quislet started stuttering. He turned to me with a look of horror that looked a hundred percent on the level. "Ex? Ex... are you in on this?!"
I started to say something but - before I could even get a word out - Kid Quislet made his move.
Lightning-quick, he threw a left forearm into my chin, taking me by surprise and knocking me backward into the door. Before the guys up front even knew what was happening, he launched a quick punch at Al's head, causing him to jerk the controls. As the hover swerved off hard to the right, Kid Quislet threw the back door open and leapt right out - rolling away into the dust as we kept moving the opposite way.
"Dat sprockin'...!"
Al slammed on the reverse thrusters, bringing the hover to a stop. He craned around to look behind us. Kid Quislet was up and running off toward the empty horizon as fast as he could but - it was clear from the way he was lurching - he must have hurt his leg in the roll.
"Out... get out of da hover, now!" Al yelled at me, as both he and Rocco leapt out of the front.
"Ha... look at him!" Rocco laughed, as he pointed at the fleeing Kid Quislet, "Da dumb shyster's headin' right for da crater. Where's he think he's gonna go? All he's doin' is blockin' himself right in! Whaddya think... ya got dis one, Al?"
Al was wiping a trickle of blood from his ear where Kid Quis had clocked him. "You kiddin' me? I ain't climbin' down in no crater... dis is a brand new pair a shoes. Besides..." He nodded at me, climbing out of the hover, "...da boss wants Mr. Bigshot here ta do da honors."
"What?" Rocco looked at Al in disbelief. "Nee-Hill? Fuggedaboutit... ain't no way I'm lettin' ya arm dis joker."
"Hey! What did I say? It's what da boss wants. Don't worry about it... me an' him had a little talk. We got ourselves a little understandin'... don't we, Nee-Hill? Trust me... dis guy ain't tryin' nothin' funny."
I looked at the two as I rubbed my chin. Try anything funny? What the hell could I even try?
Everything last bit of my soul knew that what they were making me do was gonna spell the end of life as I knew it. Once that blaster was fired there wasn't any turning back... I would have Kid Quislet's blood on my hands, forever. But these guys had me over a barrel, dead to rights... if I didn't do this, My Whee was as good as dead, and - let's call a spade a spade - so was I. The Security Office dropped the magnoball in a big way. The only thing I had to hold onto at this point was that - if anybody was responsible for Kid Quislet's death - it was them.
I shook my head, "Nah... nothing funny."
Al grinned. "Dere's a kid. I knew ya'd see da light. OK..." he reached inside his coat and pulled out a blaster, handing it to me. "Now... you know how to use one of dese, dontcha?"
I turned the blaster over in my hands like a dead dirj. Nothing had every felt heavier in my life.
"Oh, fer grife's sake... " Rocco said, grabbing the blaster from me, "Look... dis is the settin'... ya don't have ta worry about any a dat... just take off da safety here..." he flipped a switch, "Ya just get close to da guy... anythin' under about two meters should do it... and then... two shots, OK? Yer first shot puts him down... den ya put one in his brain. Den he's dead... den we go home."
He handed me the blaster again, as I looked toward the crater. I saw Kid Quislet off in the distance, still limping toward it, but - the speed he was moving - I could tell I'd be able to catch him with no problem. I looked down to the blaster in my hands.
"Aw... don't worry, Nee-Hill," Al said. "Yer first one is always da toughest. Now... you just go leave us a nice new dark spot up on dis moon..." he pulled out his own blaster, looking first at it... then back at me, "... so's I don't gotta leave two, huh?"
I looked up at him, steadying myself and meeting him with a gaze as hard as inertron. This wasn't over... not by a long shot.
I flipped up the collar of my coat, and started off toward the crater.
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