by P. R. Adams
“Chemical—” Riyun caught the faintest hint of a smile on the pseudo’s face. “You trying to develop a sense of humor, Quil?”
“I always seek to grow. That is what you told me I should do, is it not?”
“Yeah. Keep it up.” Riyun glanced over his shoulder at the two young women whispering in the living room. “You’re good with languages. Does that include subtext?”
“Subtext is no language. I believe what you seek is more of an understanding of fellow humans. Unfortunately, that is a weakness for me as well.”
“I thought you said they designed some modifications in you to make you more sensitive—”
“An empathic psi capability. It does not mean that I understand what goes unspoken. I can sometimes sense deception, especially when it is graceless. Mostly, I am aware of body language where people try to hide imminent threat. The psi capability was actually unnecessary, as this can all be managed through training. I am actually not quite sure that the psi capability works.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
“Is the problem with Symbra and Naru?”
“I thought you said your psi capability didn’t work?”
“Ah. Now, I am capable of detecting sarcasm. So the problem is with the young women?”
“Seems like.”
“Well, from what Javika has explained to me, young women are inscrutable and practiced in mystic arts meant to befuddle men. She theorizes that this is the root of all wars.”
Riyun bit back a smile. “You sure you’re capable of detecting sarcasm?”
Wrinkles creased the pseudo’s brow. “I do not understand. Javika was explaining to me why I was having problems finding someone to spend time with.”
“You’re probably better off hiring a prostitute.”
“Interesting. She told me you would say that.”
“It’s just this line of work, kid. You don’t want to get attached to anyone. Keep it a simple business transaction, treat everyone with respect and dignity, and it works out the best all around.”
“Those were almost the exact words she said you would use. She really does seem to know you well.”
“It’s not like I’m complicated.” Riyun poked around in the refrigerator. “I see science experiments in here. I guess Yola didn’t hire anyone to do even the most limited cleaning.”
Quil glanced over the refrigerator door. “Is it possible that there was friction between Yola Tromon and her daughter?”
“As possible as…” Riyun closed the refrigerator. Of course there was friction between the two of them. What parent didn’t have some sort of trouble with their children? What would it be like to be a successful executive—powerful, respected, wealthy—despite refusing to appease a powerful family, only to see the child repeat the cycle of rebellion, but to do so without any success to show for it?
“Lieutenant?” Quil sounded almost alarmed.
“Sorry. I was just trying to figure out the dynamic between the two women.”
“The Tromon women?”
“Yeah. Mother and daughter.” When the pseudo blinked in confusion, Riyun realized how out of sorts he was. He couldn’t just assume that someone grown in a vat would understand parent-child relationships. It wasn’t as if Riyun understood them, and he’d had both parents for at least part of his childhood. “It’s different for the parents and kids. The father-daughter relationship is different than the mother-daughter relationship, and…”
Quil rubbed his shirt where it covered the umbilical scar from the vat. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of comprehension on his face.
Such talks were always uncomfortable for Riyun, but it was something he owed the young man. Without understanding what he’d missed, Quil couldn’t—
“Got it!” Naru jumped and waved her tablet around.
Riyun took a step, then remembered he wasn’t giving the young woman space. “What is it?”
Symbra frowned and shook her head.
“Um—” Riyun tried to imagine what giving more space really meant, if not keeping physical distance. It had something to do with appreciation, apparently, but he couldn’t figure out what. “Good job, by the way. Now, what is it?”
Naru almost danced her way into the kitchen. “How about a complete set of transactions, and a complete movement trail?”
“Complete until when?”
“Until the day Zabila disappeared.” The hacker shoved her tablet into his gut.
He swiped through the pages of data she’d put together for him. Instead of dense, raw information, she’d made the report accessible. There were transactions for this Andromeda Ruins game, and then there were transactions for another game: Total Rewrite. The transactions were small at first, a fraction of what the missing young woman had spent on Andromeda Ruins, but in a very short period of time the spending patterns reversed, until everything was going to the new game.
“So she was spending money she didn’t really have on this Total Rewrite game?” That would be another cause for friction with her mother. Riyun could imagine the frustration a professional would feel seeing her child waste away hours and money on such a pointless effort. Perhaps he’d been blessed after all to have lost Monisa before they could have children.
Naru snatched the tablet back. “Total Rewrite is the company.”
“There’s a company called Total Rewrite?”
“Only one of the biggest corporations to have been created in the last century.”
Symbra leaned against the bar separating the kitchen from the dining room. “It’s bigger than that. I think it’s the biggest business started from scratch in the last two centuries. And not by a Silver, mind you. Not even an Onath. By a Tuos.”
Riyun didn’t know much about the corporations that weren’t part of the Onath families, but this Total Rewrite sounded big. “And they just do games?”
“Andromeda Ruins generated nearly one hundred billion in revenue.” Symbra nodded at the hacker. “That wasn’t even Total Rewrite’s biggest hit.”
One hundred billion. Even if they spent half that in production and research, it was still a sizable amount of money. “And they only do games?”
Naru groaned. “No. They do entertainment: videos, music, stories…all of it. They used to do basic retail, until they saw the margins on entertainment. Successful entertainment. And everything Uzir Beraga produces is successful. He’s a billionaire, one of the wealthiest people out there.”
Uzir Beraga. The name sounded familiar. People loved their entertainment, so maybe the name had come from someone on the team.
Running the business consumed all of Riyun’s time, but he had a vague awareness of all the media bombarding people. Civilians. People who didn’t have to fight dirty little wars to advance the agendas of corporations and wealthy families. It was hard to conceive of seeking entertainment when factions within the Inner and Outer Spheres were in constant struggle.
“So, where was the last place this tablet showed up?” Riyun pointed at the hacker’s tablet. “I didn’t see that.”
Symbra scowled.
Riyun clenched his teeth. “I mean, I missed that.”
Naru set the tablet on the bar and flipped through the report she’d had up by flicking her eyes. “Here.”
The tablet display showed the city and several meandering lines in different colors. “Is there a map key?”
“Different colors, different days—but it’s all the same basic route.”
“Is it?” He pulled the view out, and it became clearer that ultimately the path was the same. The apartment, the school, the dance club…
And this Total Rewrite. “It’s here? On Kamiya?”
“This is its headquarters.”
“Why would she be going there?”
“To the headquarters?” Naru glanced at Symbra, then the hacker muttered beneath her breath. She held her hand out for the tablet. “She was a genius systems person, remember?”
He’d forgotten that. “She was tryi
ng to get a job?”
“Possibly. Or she was just participating in some sort of test. It’s not like a job is the only thing in life.”
“What else is—?” Riyun realized he was being warned off by Symbra’s glare. Apparently, there was more to life than a job. “What else could it be if not testing?”
Symbra nodded approval.
Naru chewed on her bottom lip. “Well…I’m going with testing. Maybe it was so that she could get a job, but I’m pretty sure you don’t pay someone to hire you.”
The transaction trail. He’d almost forgotten that. “So she was testing something for them? Some sort of entertainment. Something more interesting than this Andromeda Ruins game.”
“They release new games all the time. It’s how they stay in business.”
“All right. She was testing a new game. And then…?” He looked around the apartment. “She just disappeared?”
“Some people get really absorbed into entertainment. If she already had problems, maybe the game made it worse.”
“We’re back to thinking suicide?”
Symbra’s cheeks puffed out. “I think Yola is ready to accept that.”
“After the kind of money she threw at us?” Riyun couldn’t see that. “Four investigators. An entire mercenary team. Putting us up in a luxury hotel. It doesn’t sound like someone who’s ready to accept that their kid killed herself.”
“Different people seek closure in different ways. Maybe this is Yola’s way of showing that she did everything she could.”
Riyun hadn’t known that many people who’d killed themselves. There had been a mercenary early in his career, a big and powerful man like Lonar, who’d always gone looking for trouble at every opportunity. It had been a clear death wish, a willingness to charge straight into certain slaughter. Years later, Riyun had discovered the man was unhappy in his body. He wanted to be a woman, and death had been preferable to living as he had.
Had something like that been behind Zabila’s behavior? It didn’t seem like it. Taking care of your body was a matter of self-respect.
“And you’re sure this tablet of hers is gone?”
Naru tapped a finger against her own tablet. “This data doesn’t lie. You can’t undo a trail like that. She carried that tablet around with her everywhere. And we already know that the tablet and her backpack are gone. That means…” The hacker licked her lips. “Um, actually, I don’t know what that means. But I do know it has something to do with Total Rewrite.”
Riyun strolled to one of the big windows lining the east wall of the apartment. The sun had fully risen, and it was burning off the haze that had settled over the city the night before.
Total Rewrite. If it was as big of a company as Symbra had said, he would have to be careful.
He pulled out his tablet and connected to Mrs. Dahlee.
She answered almost immediately. “Hello? Mr.…Molliro?”
“We talked last night, Mrs. Dahlee. About Tafar and the Tromon woman?”
“Oh. Yes, I remember. Did you have any luck?”
Even with the sun in the sky and the apartment uncomfortably warm, Riyun shivered. Had she heard about Aliat Dachul dying? It didn’t seem likely, yet here he was, trying to extract information from her when the man who had been sweet on her was dead. “We may have a lead. I thought I would ask you about it, just in case.”
“Oh. I’d love to help. Did you get a chance to talk to Aliat?”
“Unfortunately, no. Would you happen to know if he was looking into a place known as Total Rewrite?”
The connection was silent. Was she making the association herself? Had she figured out why they hadn’t talked to Aliat?
Mrs. Dahlee gasped. “Yes! Why, now that I think about it, that’s what he asked about when he said he had a theory.”
“And he didn’t share this theory at all with you?”
“No. I think he wanted to surprise me if it turned out to be true. Do you think it might be true? I really should call Aliat again to see if he found something. It’s not like him to go so long without calling. I think he’s sweet on me.” She chuckled.
“Did Tafar ever mention them to you—Total Rewrite?”
“Well, just about how strange a company they are. He didn’t care for Uzir Beraga. He’s the owner, you know. Lives right here on Kamiyan, he does.”
“Your husband knew Uzir Beraga?”
“Well, he’s the man who owns the company. He’s one of the wealthiest people in all the Inner Sphere. They make some very nice movies.”
“I see. Well, I’ll get back to you if we find out anything about this Beraga.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll tell Aliat. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know if you figure this out.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dahlee.” Riyun disconnected and exhaled. He couldn’t meet the eyes of the others. “I need to get Yola’s approval for this.”
Symbra nodded. “Did she mention Beraga?”
“Yes.”
Riyun’s fingers felt like lead weights as he tapped the connection to Yola Tromon. The request was denied, and a message popped up that she was in a meeting. Before he could put the tablet away, it vibrated.
Yola. Dressed just as sharp as the day before but more tired looking.
“Mrs. Tromon. Thank you—”
“Do you have something for me, Mr. Molliro? I was in a very important meeting.”
“Won’t take but a second, ma’am. Did you know anything about Zabila visiting Total Rewrite?”
“I—” Yola’s voice cracked. “Uzir Beraga is a very dangerous man, Mr. Molliro.”
“Dangerous. As in, he threatened you?”
“As in, he’s extremely powerful, and he’s extremely intelligent.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“He frightened off two of my investigators. Three, I think.”
“Frightened?”
“Bribed. I had to pay…a lot of money to keep them on the case. Two of them disappeared anyway.”
Disappeared. Like Zabila and her tablet and her backpack. “Would it be okay if we were to visit Mr. Beraga in our capacity as investigators into Zabila’s disappearance?”
“I think I would like that, Mr. Molliro.” There was a smile to her voice, if not to her face. “But I would remind you that I hired you in your capacity as mercenaries, not as investigators.”
“I…understand. Thank you, Yola.”
“I—” She sucked in a breath. “I look forward to hearing about your progress.”
The connection went dead.
Your capacity as mercenaries.
Riyun put his tablet away. “We need to go.”
Symbra looked up from where she and Naru had been examining the hacker’s tablet. “Where?”
“Back to the hotel.”
“Why?”
“To gather the others. To get our gear.”
The Onath looked at the hacker and pseudo. “And then?”
“We go to Total Rewrite. And we’re going in ready for trouble.”
11
The Total Rewrite compound occupied a long stretch of beach on the southeastern end of the city of Trebok. In the light of day, the mix of towering stone walls, concertina wire, and an entry guard post rivaled some of the more secure encampments Riyun had seen in his career. The place had the appearance of a fortress. Without the grav car Hirvok had rented, they would have seen nothing but the stone walls and guard post.
But Riyun their low-altitude approach over the beach had been enough for him to second-guess the idea of simply charging in bristling weapons.
There was an open lot shaded by trees across the street from the compound. After they landed near the largest of the trees, he let Hirvok digest what they’d seen so far. Muscles bunched along the sergeant’s jaw and in his neck. He had a habit of squeezing the tip of his nose until it was irritated when he came across a worrying objective. That nose was a deep red now.
“At least you can smell the beach from here.” Riyun arch
ed his eyebrows hopefully.
“Like you’d want to.” The younger man raked a thumbnail across his armored duster, as if he thought the deep burgundy and dark gold trim could simply be scraped away, perhaps granting him anonymity. “You get a look at that water?”
Gray. A brown foam washing up on darker brown sand. It looked dead, like most of the beaches Riyun had seen on Inner Sphere worlds. Used up, drained, depleted.
Except for the shore around the Total Rewrite compound.
“They have a pretty stretch of private beach. Must have some sort of big filtration system running out there. That blue-green water, the whitecaps—you saw that, right?”
“I did. So damn quiet, you can hear it, too.”
“The waves?”
“How in the Hollow Hills can a place that big be so quiet?”
“I guess everyone stays busy.”
“Doing what? I haven’t seen three people walk across the compound.”
“So they’re busy inside.”
Hirvok snorted. “I thought you said this place was for games?”
“Entertainment. That’s what the ladies said.” Riyun stroked the barrel of his Minkaur Devastator carbine with a gloved hand. There weren’t any obvious heavy weapons emplacements inside the compound, and there were only the guards in the entry gate building, but he’d come to trust an old adage that the threats weren’t what you saw but what you couldn’t see. “What’re you thinking?”
“Thinking this Tromon lady needs to hire a platoon, maybe a company.”
“What’s got you spooked?”
The grumpy mercenary squeezed his nose, winced, then turned to make sure the rest of the squad was still seated in the back. He leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t like it.”
“Try not to get too deep into the weeds; you’ll lose me in the details.”
“Stuff yourself. You’re just as scared as I am.”
Riyun wasn’t so sure he was scared as cautious, but he also didn’t think there was all that big a difference between those. “So we don’t land in the middle of the place and charge the main building. No drama. We can still do this.”
“We’ve got no guild backing.”
“No—we’ve got no guild limitations.”
