by Vanessa Muir
Jones was already there, waiting, his shackled wrists resting on the table, head bowed. “I wondered when you’d come to see me,” he said, softly. “It’s been a long time, partner.” He lifted his chin, and he was still there. Thank god, he was still there. The man she had once trusted with her life, her best friend, was behind those eyes.
His eyes weren’t empty as Jana Mitchell’s had been. Perhaps, that was because he hadn’t taken as much MemXor as she had.
Charlie walked to the table, sat down. “I didn’t come for a happy reunion,” she said.
“Of course not. You still think I’m a scumbag,” he replied and gave a wet chuckle. “Jones who turned tail and went State.”
“Your job was to be a mediator.” The angry words slipped from her before she could bite them back. She hadn’t forgiven him for turning on the SSG, for letting her down too. For breaking her heart, though he or anyone else would never know it.
“My job didn’t pay well enough,” he replied, then sniffed and glanced at the camera behind her. “Why did you come, Spade? You’re not here to wish me well for tomorrow.”
“It’s tomorrow, then?” she asked and swallowed hard.
“That’s right,” Jones replied, and his voice cracked. “Tomorrow, my story’s over. I’m gone. Won’t that make you happy?”
“No.” And it was the truth. He’d ripped someone’s eyeball from their skull, but she wasn’t happy about his death. She wasn’t joyful about any of this. “I came because you know something, and I need to know it too.”
The shackles rattled on the table. He’d clenched his fists. “You see it, now?” he asked. “What they’re doing.”
“Yes. MemXor –”
He shook his head. “Don’t. Not out loud.”
“But –”
“I did things I’m not proud of. I destroyed my future and – Natalya –” He choked on her name. Tears welled up. “Natalya and the baby.”
Charlie touched the back of his hand. “Easy, partner.”
“I want to say it wasn’t all me, but I think the bad parts came out. It came out. Do you understand? The drugs amplified them.”
“I need answers,” she whispered, still with her fingers on his knuckles. “Jones, I’ve got to have answers or I can’t make it stop, do you understand? For Natalya, for you. Do you understand?”
He nodded once, withdrew his hands from her touch.
The door at the opposite end of the room banged open, and the prison guard stepped in. “Time’s up!” He yelled.
“Tell me,” Charlie whispered. “Quickly. Now.”
“I said, your time’s up,” the guard repeated, gritty with anger.
“I stored it all in the cloud,” Jones hissed. “All in the cloud. The code is 59892201. Natalya’s birthday. Spade, remember it. Do you remember it?”
The guard thundered over to them and jerked Jones out of his chair. “Time’s up, scum.”
“Repeat it to me,” Jones said and allowed himself to be dragged. “Spade, repeat it to me!”
Tears stung the corners of Charlie’s eyes. “59892201,” she said. “I have it.”
The guard brought up his fist and struck Jones on the jaw. Her ex-partner, the murderer, the turncoat, doubled over and coughed, but found Charlie again. “Remember it. For Natalya. For my child. For everyone.”
For Jana Mitchell, and Tatiana. For dumb Eli, and Boss Ink.
“Remember it,” Jones howled. The guard struck him again.
Charlie Spade scraped her chair back and walked from the room, blinking back tears.
“For everyone,” she whispered.
And for Jones too.
Epilogue
Charlie flung open the kitchen cupboards and clambered onto the countertop. She’d left the lights on, the curtains closed. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t come knocking.
She felt for hard steel, in the nooks and crannies, probed the corners, pressed the pads of her fingers flat to pick up anything they may have left behind.
“Come on,” she whispered. “I know you’re in there.”
59892201. 59892201. The code repeated in her brain, over and over again, and gave the situation gravity.
Someone had followed her home from the prison. And the door to her apartment had been ajar when she’d come out of the elevator. She wouldn’t take precautions anymore. Now, she’d damn well go on the offensive.
Her fingers caught on something flat and glossy. “Got ya.” She scraped it up, pried it loose from the metal, and lifted out a flat patch. Black, circular, with a central hole. A wireless microphone.
Charlie hopped backward off the counter, walked to the sink and threw it in. The flexible mic plunked against the metal bottom. “One and counting,” she whispered.
The next two hours were spent poring over every inch of the apartment. The carpets, the floors, the cupboards, the bathroom – even the shower. The devices piled up in her kitchen sink. Thirty. Then forty. Then fifty.
Finally, she was done. Fifty stubby microphones and camera lenses, all watching her, listening from the bottom of the sink.
She gripped the edge, leaned in and smiled. “Hey, Absalon,” she said. “Councilors. You listening? Good. I’m going to find out what’s going on, and you’re not going to stop me, understand? None of you will stop me.”
Charlie drew her cell out of her pocket, lifted it, then dumped it on top of the device mound. She turned on the faucet and drowned them all.
It still wasn’t enough. How could she trust her cranial device hadn’t been tampered with? How could she trust her standard issue SSG watch? She couldn’t. But there wasn’t much to be done about it, except shut both of those off.
Charlie tapped her temple and shut down the computer linked to her brain stem. She did the same for her watch – totally against SSG regulations – then stripped it off and tossed it onto the counter.
She fetched a beer from the fridge, then stood over the sink to enjoy the show.
59892201.
“That’s probably not a good idea, you know.” The voice spoke by her right ear.
Charlie thrust her elbow backward, but a cold hand gripped it and held it fast. She braced herself for pain which didn’t come.
A gentle, spicy scent tickled her nose. One she recognized.
“Levi,” she said.
“That’s right,” the Black Mars agent replied, his breath brushing her neck. “Is it safe to release you? Or will you hit me in the stomach, anyway?”
“I might.” She turned then and backed up a step, put down the beer bottle, and braced her palms against the edge of the sink. “You haven’t given me any answers.”
“I don’t have any for you. Not any I can share without jeopardizing your position, Spade.”
“Why do you care about my position?”
“Because we need you,” Levi replied, evenly. His dark eyes sparkled behind their glasses, two gems eyeing her as if she were the prize.
“Why? Why me?”
Levi hesitated, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “What did your friend tell you? Jones?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does if you’re after the truth,” he replied. “You’ve got a taste of it, now. Surely, you understand that the State is manipulating events to their advantage. They don’t want the public to know what’s really going on.”
“What’s going on?” Charlie asked. If he told her, it’d be real. She could act on it. Or can you? What about your father? What about all the millions of people who have had their memories removed?
“You tell me,” Levi said. “You should know, agent.”
“It’s the pills. The MemXor. It’s not just the expired product that’s the problem. In high doses, the MemXor makes people crazy. It affects behavior, aggression – it makes them violent and irrational,” she said and paced forward a step.
Levi didn’t back away. He studied her with his lips pursed.
“The crimes that have happened can be
laid squarely at their feet. But they’re making too much money to stop now. I think that’s it. That’s what’s going on.”
“What you’ve found,” Levi said, “is the tip of the iceberg. There’s more. So much more.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked and looked back at the filled sink, the floating microphone pads. “How do I know I can trust you? What do you want from me?”
The Black Mars agent stepped forward and touched her arm. “You have the power to bring them down from the inside.”
“I’m not part of the rebellion.”
“Not yet,” he said. “But once you know more, you could be.”
“Just tell me, then! Enough with the games. If you want me to help you, why don’t you just spit it the fuck out?” Charlie didn’t move out of his reach. She let him touch her.
“I can’t compromise you,” he said. “If I do, you’ll never be able to finish them, Charlie. You have to work this out on your own for now. I’ll help you where and when I can. Just know, there’s more to it than what you’ve found thus far. Keep your eyes and ears open. Keep your mind open.”
Frustration screeched through her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to take the long road. She wanted answers now. “I’m tired of jumping through hoops.”
“Then find a way around them.” Levi reached up, touched two fingers to her neck. “And stay safe, please.” It was such an intimate gesture that it took her breath away.
Levi strode from the kitchen, his boot heels silent on her tiles. All in black, as usual, he was stark against the cream walls. But, somehow, he seemed to fade.
“Wait,” she croaked. “Wait, how will I reach you?”
“When you need me, I’ll be there.” His voice came from the living room. There was a swish, a thunk, and then silence.
Charlie jogged to her living room, the walls swaying around her. Levi was gone. The window had been left open again. She ran to it, gripped the ledge and peered down into the night.
Nothing. The man in black had already disappeared.
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