“What happened?”
A line appeared between his brow. “You showed up on my doorstep, more dead than not. My stupid door release wasn’t working—you know how these pre-Breakdown things always go on the blink—so I went down to let you in and barely opened the door as some guys were getting out of a black shuttle. They had guns. I got you inside, and they took off. We think it was the KC, but we have no proof.”
“Had to be them.”
“I agree. They obviously didn’t want you testifying.” Bay reached up and fingered something out of his eye. “I’m really sorry, Reese. I was worried, but not enough, at least not about you. I was thinking of Letisha and the baby. I wanted to stay out of it.”
His confession explained his strange behavior that last day. “And Grogovit?” she rasped.
Bay’s mouth twisted. “Still in custody. But his case is on hold. I’m sure now that you’re awake, they’ll pick up proceedings again.” He paused before rushing on. “There’s more. During the time when we weren’t sure you’d make it, information about a drug warehouse was sent anonymously to division. It claimed you were responsible for the drugs, and that you’d framed Grogovit. They had some of your personal belongings and messages that apparently came from you.”
“But I—” Reese began.
“I know. We know it’s planted data. They were trying to make it look like you were guilty before killing you. Probably in a fire. But you managed to escape.” Here he allowed himself a tiny smile. “You’re a star, Reese. I mean that in a big way. They’re waiting to question you to put it all to rest, but Captain Homer and I have enough to support your testimony. And I’ve made multiple copies of everything proving your innocence. No way is it going to be corrupted this time.”
Emotion rushed through Reese, but a flash of a sketch from Bay squashed it as she very clearly saw an image of her own bleeding body in the lobby of his apartment building. The urge to sketch went from a pressing need to a desperate one.
“I need paper,” Reese told Bay. “I saw them.”
Bay glanced over at her left hand. “They broke your hand in five places, as well as about ten other bones in your body. They’ve used nanobots to repair a lot of it, but you know how rare those are. Even so, you’re still a mess. You need to rest.”
He didn’t understand that she wouldn’t be able to rest until she put the sketches on paper. That was the way her gift—or her curse—worked.
“I’ll use my other hand. Then you can find them.”
“Look, I’m not kidding. That can wait.” He turned and fumbled around on the counter behind him and came up with a mirror, shoving it in front of her.
Reese blinked at the unrecognizable face in the mirror. Her entire head was swathed with bandages and her neck was in some kind of brace. Her skin was more green and black than flesh-colored. At least seven nasty cuts marred her face.
“Luckily with pre-Breakdown tech, you shouldn’t have much scarring,” he said.
She looked away from the mirror. “I don’t care about that. I want to get these guys down on paper while I still remember them. Please.”
Bay sighed and put away the mirror, a rueful grin coming to his lips. “Okay. I’ll be right back. The little pad you carry in your suit was ruined, so I’ll have to pick one up at division. And don’t worry while I’m gone. There are always two guards posted outside the door.”
Reese hadn’t even considered that she’d still be in danger. “I also want you to send a message to the Magistrate Assistant. Tell her I want to testify.”
“What?” Bay approached the bed, acting as if he was going to reach out to her but stopping before touching her. Which was a good thing because he was sending her more mental sketches, this time of Grogovit’s sick employees. She hadn’t known he’d gone to see them in the hospital.
“As soon as I testify, they won’t need to hurt me,” she insisted.
“Unless they’re big on revenge.”
That was true, but she hadn’t survived for nothing.
“Do it or I will,” she said, though there was no way she’d be getting up from that bed anytime soon.
If the Magistrate was still willing to hear her testimony, they might have to wheel her to the administration building to testify. What if the KC was lying in wait?
She pushed the thoughts away. She couldn’t think about that now.
AS PROMISED, BAY was back in short order with a stack of drawing pads from her office. Reese immediately directed him to put a pencil in her right hand, and she quickly sketched out the images of the men who had attacked her. Only the third man wasn’t distinct, as though her memories of him weren’t clear. That was often the difference between drawing an actual memory and a sketch. Sketches didn’t fade until she’d put them on paper. Her memories did, especially if she hadn’t been able to get a decent look at the guy in the first place.
When she was finished, Bay began running the images through the database using his iTeev. He got a hit on the first two men, but not the third. “They’ve probably gone underground, but we’ll put a couple teams on it. We’ll get them soon enough.”
Reese would have to be satisfied with that, but she knew the third man was the dangerous one, and until she found him, she’d always be looking over her shoulder.
“What about my message to the Director’s office?” she asked.
Bay heaved a sigh. “I told the captain, and he sent in your message. I’m guessing you’ll hear from them sooner rather than later. Grogovit’s partners at Kordell Corp have been making a huge stink about us holding him. But so far Captain Homer and I are the only ones besides the nurse and your doctor who know you’re awake. We’re keeping that under wraps. Hopefully, the KC won’t hear about your recovery until it’s too late.”
“Thanks.” Reese nodded, somehow managing to keep the tears from her eyes until her partner left the room.
With the silence pushing down on her, she thought fleetingly of calling her great-aunt, Theena Parker, who had given her a home after leaving the colony. Reese had left instructions in her division file forbidding them to contact Theena unless she was dead, mostly because Reese hadn’t wanted to worry her. She certainly didn’t want to give the old lady a fright now. No, she’d wait a few weeks until she could move around better and when more of the visible injuries had faded.
With a resigned sigh and a great deal of effort, Reese pulled her personal notepad out of the stack Bay had set next to her right leg and recorded the two sketches she’d caught from her coworkers before leaving work that fateful Friday, the woman in the red skirt and the blue-suited man that she’d glimpsed from her attackers, Bay’s sketches of Grogovit’s sick employees, and then finally his image of herself lying on the floor in his lobby.
At last her hand was still and she could rest. The doctor had given her a pain pump, but she hadn’t dared use it until she got out the sketches. Now she pressed the button and closed her eyes. After a while, the pain faded. She drifted.
Only moments seemed to have passed when a commotion at the door made her jerk awake. But no, she’d slept for hours, if she could judge by the angle of light streaming through the window. It was near dinnertime maybe. Maybe even dinnertime the next day.
The nurse from before stood in the doorway, two red dots on her cheeks. She looked panicked. Two men in gray suits followed her into the room, each carrying an automatic assault rifle.
Had the KC broken past her guards? Reese looked around for a weapon, but all she had was her pencil. Her monitor began beeping angrily.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, her voice quick and breathy, “but you have a Visitor.” The way she said visitor capitalized the word with great importance. She put out a hand to silence the alarm.
Still clutching her pencil, Reese’s eyes fixed on the doorway as a black-robed figure stepped through. There was no mistaking that black mask. “Magistrate,” Reese choked out. Her jaw would have gaped open in shock if the bandages around her head would have let
it. She was glad she was in bed, or she might have collapsed in disbelief.
Two more gray-suited, armed men behind the Magistrate took up position at the door. “I’m happy you have regained consciousness,” the Magistrate said without preamble. She paused, as if waiting for Reese to respond.
“Thank you,” Reese choked out.
The Magistrate inclined her head. It was impossible to tell her exact size under the voluminous robes, but she appeared shorter and her shoulders more narrow than they had been on the dais at the administration building.
“I hear you are ready to proceed with your testimony,” the Magistrate continued.
“I am, but I didn’t think—”
“Given your experience the last time you were scheduled to testify,” the Magistrate said, “I thought it best to do this immediately.” She waved a hand and the wall next to Reese shimmered to life with a holo display of the chambers at the administration building. Grogovit and his advocate were in attendance, as was the green-robed doctor and two sets of enforcers. The latter were heavily armed, despite the normal no-weapons rule for the judgment chambers.
“Detective Parker, can you please relate the events leading up to discovering the factory, and what happened once you arrived?” the Magistrate asked.
“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, Reese began with the first sketch she had made at division while interviewing Cruz, explaining how it had led them to Grogovit’s office building, the discussion with the janitor, and finding the factory.
“And how did you happen to have the drawing of the building that was behind the factory?”
“It was a drawing I’d made from an informant earlier,” Reese said, which was true, even if Cruz didn’t know he’d informed on his boss. “I showed it to him on a whim.”
That seemed to satisfy the Magistrate. “Go on.”
Reese continued, telling about going into the building and the conversation she’d overheard Grogovit having with his manager. The now-conveniently-dead manager. Reese tried to include details, like the peanut smell and the expressions on the men’s faces. Every detail, except for the sketches she saw from other people’s minds. She glanced at Grogovit in the holoscreen only a time or two as she spoke. He sat with his arms folded and a confident smile on his puffy lips.
“Grogovit said he was late because he had been planting evidence to incriminate only Cruz,” Reese said at the very end of her recitation, “and that as long as everyone at the factory kept their mouths shut, their drug operation would continue.”
“Are you absolutely positive that is what he said?” asked the Magistrate.
Reese tried to nod but the bandages wouldn’t let her. “Absolutely.”
Grogovit’s advocate stood, but the Magistrate waved him to silence before he could speak. Silence filled the room.
Had Reese’s testimony been enough? Did the Magistrate believe her, or would she sense that she was holding something back?
“Since we last spoke,” the Magistrate said, “did you know that Tadum Grogovit’s advocate has brought to my attention evidence that implicates you in the manufacture and distribution of juke?”
Reese saw Grogovit exchange a gloating look with his advocate, who had retaken his seat. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Magistrate beat her to it. “Fortunately, your captain has presented more than enough solid evidence to exonerate you. This is not the first time Kordell Corp has been under suspicion, nor the first time they have tried disgraceful tactics to absolve themselves of guilt.”
“Magistrate, I must object,” protested Grogovit’s advocate, once again springing to his feet.
“Enough!” The Magistrate’s voice boomed through the room with more power than Reese had ever heard from a person of her stature. “You’ve had weeks to present evidence, and I’ve had weeks to think about the case. I am prepared to pass sentence.” She paused momentarily before continuing, as if waiting to make sure everyone was listening. “Tadum Grogovit, please rise.”
Grogovit’s smile was gone now, but he still didn’t look afraid. He rose fluidly, as if sure he’d already won. And maybe he had. It was his word against hers. Well, besides the disappearing evidence and people dropping dead like it was Breakdown all over again.
“In light of the very convincing testimony of Enforcer Parker, and your presence at the factory,” the Magistrate intoned without inflection, “I find you guilty of the manufacture and distribution of juke.”
Grogovit stared at her, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. He glanced at his advocate, who studiously avoided his gaze.
“Fortunately,” the Magistrate continued, her voice softening, “you live in a society that helps those who break the law instead of executing or imprisoning them. We’ll get you the help you need, Mr. Grogovit. To that end, I hereby sentence you to medical enhancement. The procedure will take place immediately. Enforcers, please escort your prisoner to the enhancement center.”
A gasp escaped Grogovit’s lips. Two of the enforcers leapt toward Grogovit, taking both his arms. Grogovit struggled, flailing out at his advocate, as if trying to hit him, but the enforcers pulled him back. The doctor withdrew a hypo from a hidden pocket of his green robe and pushed it against Grogovit’s skin, depressing the tip.
Grogovit’s head swung toward the doctor. “Why you—” Whatever else he had been going to say was lost as he collapsed, saved from crashing to the floor only by the support of the enforcers.
“I’ll have someone with a wheelchair meet you in the hallway,” the doctor said.
The two enforcers grunted in response and began dragging Grogovit across the glossy floor to the exit. The other enforcers followed them.
To the advocate, the doctor added, “Please let his family know that they’ll be able to see him tomorrow. By then he’ll be recovered enough from the operation. They can expect a kinder, more loving version of his former self. Good day.” With a nod in the Magistrate’s direction, he also took his leave. Only Grogovit’s advocate was left, staring sightlessly back at them.
The Magistrate gave a downward wave of her hand and the scene on the wall vanished. “The Director will make the announcement about the sentencing later this afternoon when the enhancement procedure is complete,” she said. “Thanks to your survival, Detective Parker, the CORE is now a safer place, and people will think twice about breaking our laws. You are a hero.”
Reese felt suddenly weak. It was over. Finally. “Thank you. But if it’s okay, I’d rather my name be kept off the Teev. I’ve had enough excitement.”
To her surprise, the Magistrate laughed. “I think that can be arranged. We will also expunge the public record to omit your involvement. That may help keep you safe.”
Which meant she wasn’t sure Reese wouldn’t still be a target, but with Grogovit heading to surgery, the KC would at least have no immediate reason to kill her.
The Magistrate inclined her head and left the room without another word.
With a sigh of relief, Reese closed her eyes and slept.
When she awoke again the next day, Bay was there to let her know that using the identifications made by her drawings, he had found and picked up one of the two men who had attacked her. The hairy man had been found dead in the river. The survivor hadn’t implicated the KC in the attack but claimed he and his partner had been after Reese’s weapons to sell on the black market.
“They’ll be sent to medical enhancement,” Bay said. “No doubt. And they don’t have money or family, so it’s likely they’ll live out the rest of their lives working in a colony factory.”
“What about the third guy?” Reese asked. “He was the one calling the shots.”
Bay shook his head. “We didn’t find an ID on him. Yet.”
Reese doubted they ever would. She’s seen the length to which Kordell Corp had gone to protect their partner, and she suspected that the third man was someone important in the organization.
Not finding him bothered Reese a lot, but there was nothing she
could do about it. At least not yet. Nothing but get better—and as fast as she could.
Chapter 9
FIVE MONTHS AFTER the attack, and with more than a dozen surgeries to her name, Reese was anxious to leave the hospital and get back to work. She’d been trying to tell Captain Homer that she was fine for the past month, but he’d kept her on the rehabilitation floor until she could completely pass her enforcer medical, which included hand-to-hand combat. There had been no sign of retribution from the KC, and her security had lessened to one enforcer. Thanks to Bay, she had a new Enforce nine mil, as well as a replacement knife.
The public retirement of Kordell Corp executive Tadum Grogovit had been top news for weeks, but people had eventually moved on. Three months ago, Grogovit had arisen again briefly in the news when his second child was born, and during his interview, he looked affable and happy. If his speech was a little distracted and vague, no one commented on it. Maybe he couldn’t work or make more money, but then he didn’t need to. He wouldn’t be making drugs either—that was the important thing—and he’d be spending a lot more time with his family. Reese tried to put him from her mind.
She still had dreams. Dreams of the attack. Dreams of being enhanced. Dreams of the janitor walking with a cleaner while his mind screamed for release.
Worse, she was beginning to have doubts about the CORE. About their methods of punishment, their tight control, the luxury of the Elite while children fought for their lives in the colonies. But she didn’t tell anyone that, of course.
At last, on a Wednesday afternoon, Captain Homer appeared in her room at the hospital to sign her release papers. Bay was with him.
“I was beginning to think you were going to keep me in here forever,” she said to the captain. She began folding the clothes Bay had brought for her from her apartment, stuffing them into a bag he’d also retrieved. Getting home would be nice. She was already envisioning being there, especially on the balcony where tonight she’d sit and watch the sunset.
Insight Page 8
