by P. R. Adams
People were dying everywhere, and all these people cared about was how stoned they were or how they’d just landed a new promotion.
Naru seemed embarrassed for the display, as if she were responsible for all the other idiots. Riyun ground his teeth and kept his eyes on the base of the elevator door. When it opened, he barreled into the lobby, breezing past the waiting area and the concierge, speeding through the door, only slowing as he approached the skimmer. It was black and sleek, low to the ground while stationary.
Something built for speed.
Quil smiled when the door opened. “Not on our tab, so I thought we might indulge ourselves.”
Riyun hurried Naru into the back seat, then settled in the front passenger seat. “Naru has an address for you.”
The skimmer rose quickly, pushing Riyun against his seat.
The smile spread on the pseudo’s face. “This is on the eastern end of town. Not as nice there.”
“Good.” Riyun settled back. He was beginning to hate the city.
As they sped through the dark canyon, he realized they’d become just another set of lights blinking and speeding through the abyss, far below the elite of the world. It was warmer down there, stuffier to the point of being stifling. And that strange metallic tang in the air was more pronounced. The skimmer wasn’t built to hold out the night, so the sounds of other skimmers and the lives of the people leaked through the glass. Riyun could barely see them—blurs that were there one moment, gone the next—but he could feel them.
Even in a world of excess and money, society had detritus. The lost or hopeless. No matter how different, humans would always find something that connected them.
And more to drive them apart.
After several minutes, the buildings changed. The skimmer lights reflected from the exteriors a little more dully. Some of the polished steel was replaced by stone. There were more people on the sidewalks, and their dress was more mundane. Some seemed a little more worn down, older, defeated.
Brothers and sisters. His people.
It didn’t take long before the towering skyscrapers were completely replaced by the concrete structures they’d passed on their way into the city. It truly was darker here, not just seemingly so because of the lack of bright lights above. Only sunlight could touch a place like this, and it could never drive away all the shadows.
They slowed and descended, and Quil pointed to a particularly bleak looking building. “Our destination.”
Riyun wondered if he should’ve brought a weapon. When the skimmer came to a stop, he tugged on the lapels of his long coat to reassure himself it was there. “Naru, you stay close. Quil, keep your eyes open.”
The air was still when they stepped out. The doors closed with a heavy sound. Something moved in the shadows of a nearby alley, and a figure resolved just shy of the sidewalk.
“Someone’s watching us.” Naru’s voice shook.
“They’re just curious.” Riyun waved her closer, then hurried toward the front door.
It opened into a lobby, a space that smelled like piss. People slept in this area. There was a door opposite the one they’d come through. A grungy, white button sat below a chipped speaker. He hooked an arm around the hacker’s waist and rushed her through piled garbage that crumpled and popped until they were at the button.
“This is the address, right?” Riyun searched around for a sign that there was an office somewhere. “This looks more like an apartment building.”
Naru stared off into space. “It’s what my queries pulled up.” The tablet glowed inside her jacket. She pulled it out and shakily ran through the records she’d shown earlier. “Here. See?”
“I see.”
Something banged against the outer door they’d come through: the shadowy form from the alley.
Riyun pushed her between him and the button. “See if you can figure out how to contact him.”
“Um…it’s not on wireless. Audio only.”
In the darkness, the tablet glow changed rapidly. She mumbled under her breath into the query engine. He caught the investigator’s name, then Yola’s, and a second later the speaker buzzed and hummed, followed by a static-filled connection to the building’s intelligent agent.
“May I assist—” The next words were lost in a choppy hiss.
Naru backed against Riyun. “Um, I’m looking for Dahlee. Tafar Dahlee.”
“There is no—” More choppy hiss. “There are two Dahlees within the building. Tosha—” Static chewed up the rest of it.
The shadowy shape turned the entry door black, and a dull squeak hinted at movement against the glass, maybe a hand cupped over eyes to better peer inside. Then the door opened, and the shadowy shape filled the frame. Sour body odor floated on the air. “Gotta pay your toll.”
Riyun held up a hand. “We won’t be long.” He craned his neck around and hissed at Naru, “Get this open now.”
The hacker nodded. “I’m trying.”
Riyun stepped away from her, moving closer to the shadowy form. It was a man, big as Riyun, heavier, and apparently dressed in rags that had been used to wipe the butts of every bum for five miles around. “I’d like to keep this civil.”
The shadow moved closer. “Pay your toll—it’ll be civil.”
“What’s the toll?”
Breathing. Rancid, heavy, threatening breathing. That was the shadow’s answer. “She smells like she’d be fun.”
“Okay.” Riyun shifted just enough to narrow his profile and position himself for a quick strike. “I’ll give you one chance to walk away. I suggest you take it.”
“Gotta pay…the toll.”
“Your choice.”
Riyun stepped into a strike, a blow into the man’s gut. It was like punching a folded blanket.
He was padded, wearing layers of clothes.
That was as much as Riyun could take in before the shadow lunged. They went to the trash-covered floor. The shadow punched—powerful blows, but sloppy and not as effective as they should have been.
Still, the vagrant stank. And he was drooling.
It was easier to tell where the man’s face was now. Riyun drove an elbow into where he thought the nose would be and smiled when he heard a satisfying crack.
The shadow moaned. His fingers locked around Riyun’s throat. “Toll.”
“Had your chance.” Riyun struck at the nose area twice more—bare fisted. His knuckles were wet.
The fingers around his throat weakened.
A couple more quick punches, and it sounded like the shadow deflated.
Riyun guided the bum to the floor, and pushed away from him, then scrambled back onto shaking feet.
The door opened again, and Riyun readied himself for another attack.
Quil froze there. “That smell—worse than someone in the field for a month.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Riyun brushed the drool from his jacket. “You didn’t see this guy?”
“I thought you wanted me to protect the skimmer.”
“Is there someone out there threatening it? Because I can’t see anybody else out there right now.”
“I assumed you could handle yourself.”
Riyun kicked the bum. “I guess I did. Get him out of here.”
The pseudo glanced at the hacker’s back, sniffled, then grabbed the shadow man and hauled him outside.
“Um…” Naru waved at Riyun. “I think I found what we’re looking for.” She pointed at the white button. “His wife. Tafar’s wife.”
A dull buzz came from the interior door, and a tinny voice crackled through the speaker. “Third floor—303.”
The elevator was broken, so they took the stairs. The stairwell was even darker than the lobby, and only slightly less grimy. Riyun kicked papers and bottles aside until he could confidently find the steps with his boots. Naru seemed content to follow.
As they approached the third floor, she made a strange, hissing sound. “How do people live like this?”
He pu
shed the door open, revealing a better-lit and less-cluttered hallway. Someone had improvised metal covers to protect the lights, and the garbage had been cleared for the most part. The floor looked like raw concrete, with traces of old glue that must’ve once held tiles in place.
Riyun made a beeline for 303. “I’m sure they don’t have much choice.”
He knocked twice before the door opened a crack.
A dark eye stared through a heavy set of chains. “What do you want?”
“I’d like to talk to your husband. Tafar?” Riyun tried to smile, although he doubted that would help any.
“I would, too.” The door closed.
Riyun spun around on Naru. “You sure this—”
The rattle of chains being slid free brought him back around to the door, which opened hesitantly. A middle-aged woman—chubby and short—glared at him. She held a pistol in her right hand. “Tafar’s dead.”
“Dead?” Riyun’s heart sank. “I-I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” A tear trickled down a pale brown cheek. “Not your fault, I assume.”
“No. I—”
“Come on in. The both of you.” The woman glanced up and down the hallway, then waved them in with her gun.
It wasn’t an office at all but an apartment, like Riyun had thought. The interior—while small—was cozy and cheerfully lit. A short hallway led into the living area with a recliner and matching loveseat. There was a relatively nice video display mounted against a wall. The glow from the device was bright enough to reveal bars on the windows beyond the long, sun-dulled drapes. A teacup rested on an old, scuffed end table beside the recliner. Fruity steam wafted up from that cup. Soft voices came from the display as children ran through a sunlit park.
“Sorry for the trouble.” Riyun was suddenly self-conscious about his appearance. Dark blood stained his long coat, and he was sure some of the vagrant’s stench had rubbed off. But the woman didn’t say anything about it. “We appreciate your time.”
The woman looked toward the video playing on the display. “That, I have plenty of.”
“We won’t abuse it.” He nodded toward Naru. “This is Naru. You talked to her.”
Naru stepped forward, smiling like a maniac. “I really…”
Riyun squeezed the young woman’s elbow. “Sorry, ma’am. I think she’s in shock.”
“I—” Naru blinked rapidly, then shook her head and whimpered. “It must be hard, living like this.”
The older woman nodded. “We used to live several miles from here. Much nicer. So much nicer.” She sighed. “I probably could’ve stayed there, but with Tafar’s death…”
“How…?” Riyun winced. He would never grow comfortable talking about someone else’s death.
“I don’t know, really. Other than knowing it was on the job. I think we both knew after what happened to him some years ago that he would die that way: working. He was caught in a shootout, you see.”
“We heard about that.”
“A lot of people did.” The woman smiled proudly. “Not many people survive something like that, but my Tafar, he was so smart, and so tough.”
“You have every right to be proud.” Riyun squeezed Naru’s elbow again and cocked an eyebrow: Are you ready?
The hacker nodded. “Your husband was working for Yola Tromon. Is that right, Mrs. Dahlee?”
The older woman seemed surprised but nodded slowly. “How did you know that?”
“We—” Naru glanced at Riyun for reassurance. “—are working for her, too. She hired us to find someone.”
“Tromon’s daughter.” The Dahlee woman shook her head and made a bitter face: lips and eyes squeezed tight. “Tafar was sure he had her case solved. He’d come home at night with his work and study it into the wee hours. He couldn’t make sense of her. So pretty and young, so smart, with the whole galaxy open before her, and all she could do was mope and cause trouble for her mother.”
Resentment flashed across Naru’s face, but it was quickly replaced with a warm, understanding smile. “Did he ever say where he thought she might have disappeared to? Was she kidnapped?”
“Oh, no. Not kidnapped. Ran away.”
“Ran—” Naru blinked at Riyun.
Riyun held a finger up. “He had evidence she ran away?”
The older woman nodded. “Oh, yes. There was no doubt. But Miss Tromon wouldn’t accept that. And she didn’t care. The job was to find her and bring her home. And he was close.”
“Why did he stop?”
“I told you—he was killed.”
“Killed? On this case?”
“This very case. The day he said he was going to bring her home.”
“Do they know how? Who did it? It wasn’t the girl, right?”
The Dahlee woman glanced toward the video playing on the display. “Well, no one knows what happened. It’s just—”
Riyun signaled for Naru to take over again. The hacker took a step toward the older woman. “They don’t know how he died?”
“I guess they don’t know if he’s dead. But he has to be. I collected his insurance. The investigators—the insurance investigators—cleared everything. They found the skimmer he’d rented. They found his tablet. They just couldn’t find him.”
“How long has he been missing?”
“Oh. A month. I couldn’t claim anything until then. Miss Tromon, though, she had someone come by to help me out. She’s the one who bought this apartment for me. She’s not so bad, I guess.” But the look on the older woman’s face didn’t match her words.
Riyun cleared his throat. “Did you happen to catch the name of this person who helped you out?”
“Yes. It was an old associate of Tafar’s. Aliat Dachul. He’d taken over the case, actually.”
“Al—” Naru’s jaw dropped. “You talked to him?”
“Aliat? Oh, yes. We go way back. He asked me all sorts of questions about Tafar’s investigation. They were peers. Aliat visited him after the shootout. And he took care of me for Tafar.”
The hacker seemed surprised. “When was that? When you and Aliat last talked.”
“Why, the last time we talked was just a few days ago. He seemed sure he had this figured out, same as Tafar had. Are you working with Aliat now?”
Riyun swallowed. “Actually, I think we were brought in to replace him.”
“Replace? But he had everything figured out. He told me Tafar had it right.”
“Did Aliat say where he thought the Tromon girl had gone to?”
“No. But he said if he was right, he’d let me know how he’d figured out the whole thing. He was going to give me some of the money he made, since it was Tafar’s ideas that led to the solution.” Mrs. Dahlee tilted her head. “Why would she fire Aliat if he was so close to resolution?”
Riyun exchanged a glance with Naru. They both had the same question. He glanced at the hacker’s tablet. “Would you happen to have a way to contact this Aliat?”
“Yes.” The older woman settled in the recliner and pulled up a tablet. She patiently poked through the interface, lips moving as she typed, until a connection interface replaced the video on the display. A plain-looking man with a long, narrow face and a bushy mustache smiled at them.
Seems like a decent guy. Riyun bowed slightly. “We appreciate you helping us, Mrs. Dahlee.”
“Mm-hm. I’d like to know what’s going on with Aliat, obviously. We’ve talked several times.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled. “I think he’s sweet on me.”
Riyun had to suppress a grin when Naru’s face twisted in disgust. How typical for a kid not to understand that love doesn’t end with youth. “He must be a good judge of character.”
“His wife Gertae passed away two years ago. He seems very lonely, and he’s a good man. Tafar liked him.” She frowned when the connection interface closed with a message that there was no answer. “That’s strange. We just talked the other day. I think he’s sweet on me. He always answers.”
“Is there some other way we could contact him?”
The old woman took a sip of tea. “Well, he has an apartment of his own not far from here.” She fiddled around with her tablet, and an address appeared on the display device. “There.”
Naru held her tablet up to record the address. “It’s only a couple minutes away.”
Riyun’s skin itched. He didn’t like the way the leads seemed to be turning into dead ends. “Did Aliat happen to say anything about the other investigators?”
Mrs. Dahlee nodded. “Oh, yes. He said it was the strangest thing, the way Miss Tromon couldn’t hold on to any investigators. Apparently, they quit. Just up and turned in their resignations and disappeared.”
“That does seem strange. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Dahlee.” Riyun bowed slightly once more, then backed toward the door.
“It’s been my pleasure.” She smiled as she opened the door for them. “Do be careful. And if you happen to see Aliat tonight, well, let him know that I was worried when he didn’t answer.”
“We will.”
Riyun sped down the stairs, now much less concerned about sure footing. He waved off Naru’s questions: “What’s going on?” “You’ve got an idea, don’t you?” “You think Yola’s screwing people over somehow?”
The vagrant was just coming around as they hurried to the skimmer, still muttering something about a toll as they drove off.
Quil’s eyes jumped from the nav console to the street as they sped along. “A nicer neighborhood.”
“Yeah. Just speed it up, okay?”
Riyun scratched the back of his hand. He needed something from this: a meaningful clue, some helpful guidance, or maybe just a warning to steer clear of Yola Tromon. Or maybe he didn’t need that warning. Maybe he was already regretting accepting this job.
The skimmer settled in front of another of the aged, stone buildings, this one less weathered-looking than the one Mrs. Dahlee lived in. There were dim lights from within and along the front. The place smelled clean, and nothing moved in the shadows of the alleys.
Riyun didn’t waste any time telling Quil what to do but hurried into the foyer. There was the same sort of interior door and white button, but everything was lit and looked functional, and there was no garbage.
