Singularity

by Eldon Farrell

  Nathan stepped away from the table. “I’m leaving,” he said, “Unless you have something you want to charge me with?” Silence stretched between them. Nathan snorted. “That’s what I thought.”

  With his hand on the doorknob, Nathan heard Singh gloat behind him. “Enjoy your time off, Miller. Suspended again and, once more, your protectors don’t seem inclined to lift a finger to change it.”

  Nathan squeezed the knob in his hand. He pushed the door open and stormed off.

  36

  Alexis woke with a start. She panted in the grips of an ominous feeling—like someone had walked over her grave.

  Her HoloSphere glowed in front of her, the only illumination in the darkened office. A Sky Network anchor recounted the latest events in no more than a murmur. She increased the volume and reached for a glass of water.

  A composed voice filled the room. “Protests against the world’s largest company continued yesterday. As the Senate debated Bill S.71, protestors feared what its passage could mean. The proposed Bill would grant AmeriGEN the legal right to offer artificial wombs—or ectogenesis services—to those wishing to use the technology. Touted as a step towards increased equality and a world where women will not need to bear the responsibility of procreation alone, the technology has its detractors.”

  Alexis took a drink and leaned back on the sofa. She closed her eyes and listened to the anchor drone on. “Noted Civil rights attorney, Martin C. Ladner, spoke from Washington yesterday in defense of the protestors. He worried the more contentious parts of the Bill would allow AmeriGEN the freedom to tamper with the genetic source material, ostensibly to remove undesired genetic afflictions from the fetus. He noted, however, this tampering could cut both ways and, by granting AmeriGEN—who already possess the largest genetic database in the world—the freedom to interfere with fetus development, it could lead to them playing God.”

  She opened her eyes and moved to silence her display. Her hand paused in mid-swipe. “Recapping our top story, a Union City Police Detective has been found dead. An apparent shoot-out took place at the abandoned Rouge Oreiller Hotel last evening, where it has been confirmed Detective Quinn Baker lost his life. Detective Baker was a five-year veteran of the police service.”

  Alexis crumpled from the sofa to her knees on the floor. Her eyes welled up and tears dripped onto her rug. The anchor’s voice faded away, covered by her anguished scream.

  37

  Nathan pulled the drawer open and flatware clattered inside. He cringed at the noise. Easing it shut, he resumed his search of the kitchen. With the lights off it made his search difficult, but he didn’t want to chance waking Maria or Damien.

  He opened a cabinet over the fridge and paused when a light came on behind him. Nathan felt her eyes on him before Maria asked, “Nate?”

  The cabinet door closed with a thump, and Nathan turned around to face her. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the fridge. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Nathan motioned to the bottle of beer on the counter. “Was trying to find a bottle opener.”

  Maria sat at the table. Concern etched on her face, she said, “It’s late.”

  Nathan gave a slight nod. “It is. I shouldn’t have come over so late, I just…I didn’t want to go home tonight.”

  Maria adjusted her robe where it had fallen open. She glanced to the door and asked, “How did you get in here?” Nathan gave her a look and offered a sheepish grin. She sighed and moved on. “I heard what happened. I recognized your partner’s picture on Sky Network. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  Nathan moved to the counter and lifted the beer. He held it for a long moment before returning it to the fridge. He faced Maria again and said, “I’ll be all right.”

  “I’ve been trying to reach you ever since I saw the news.” She stood up, walked over to him, and took his hand in hers. “I called the station. They said you had been released over night. What did they mean by released? Are you in trouble, Nate?”

  He pulled his hand away from her grip and walked over to the table. Nathan kept his back to her and placed his hands on his hips.

  “Talk to me, Nate,” Maria pleaded with him.

  Nathan turned to look at her. He softened upon seeing her expression and the quiver of her bottom lip. “I’m all right,” he said with a half-hearted smile, “Honest. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

  Maria pulled her robe back up on her shoulder. She chewed her bottom lip a moment then asked, “What happened to your partner?”

  Nathan answered, “He placed his trust in the wrong person.”

  “Why were they questioning you?”

  Anger flashed within him. His nostrils flared, and his expression darkened. Maria took a step back. Nathan stared at her long enough to realize concern and not suspicion prompted the question. His cheeks flushed, and he went to her. He touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t be frightened. My enemies are trying to pin his death on me. They think I killed my partner. They want me to have killed him.”

  She pushed away slightly. “That’s insane. You would never do that.”

  Nathan looked her in the eye and said, “So, you see why there’s nothing to worry about. This witch hunt will come to nothing. I’ll be back on duty in no time.” He leaned in and stole a kiss. “Go back to bed. I’ll show myself out.”

  Maria grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go.” Her robe fell from her shoulder again. “You didn’t want to be alone—stay with me.” She reached up and planted another kiss on his lips. Her soft lips stirred longing within him.

  She turned the lights out and led him to bed.

  Nathan’s eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling fan rotating over the bed. His heart raced and thumped against his chest. It reverberated in his ears and clenched jaw. Maria snored softly beside him, unaware of his anxiety.

  He threw the sheet off and hung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet just touched the plush carpet. Placing his head in his hands, he tried to steady his breathing and work the ache out of his jaw. The dull throbbing fueled his unease. He stood and watched Maria roll over and continue her rhythmic snoring.

  Nathan left the bedroom and padded down the hallway. He entered the kitchen and stretched his arms over his head. A tired yawn passed his lips as he opened the refrigerator door. The yellow light within illuminated a narrow swath of the room. Bending at the waist, Nathan reached inside and grabbed the milk carton.

  A familiar voice asked, “Can’t sleep?”

  Nathan yelped. He jumped and cracked his head against the fridge. Swearing, he avoided dropping the milk. His eyes wide and his back pressed into the open fridge, he tried to regain his composure while he stared at the impossible.

  “Let me guess.” Quinn crossed his legs on the kitchen chair and smiled. “Guilty conscience?”

  Nathan felt his heart constrict. Cold daggers ran down his spine. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. “You—you can’t…I—I…”

  “You what?” Quinn asked, “You killed me?”

  Nathan stumbled out of the fridge and fell against the counter. At the sink, he splashed water over his face. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

  “Wow,” Quinn said, “Didn’t take you long to jump to hallucinations. I’m hurt, Nate. Are you not happy to see me?”

  Nathan placed his palms on the edge of the counter and breathed in. He closed his eyes and shook. Turning around, he stared at Quinn, still smiling in the chair. “You’re not real.”

  Quinn wagged a finger at him and made a tsk sound. “Do you really prefer that? I mean, if I’m not real, then you’re kind of cracking up, my friend.”

  “You’re not real,” Nathan repeated. He put his hands behind his head and said, “None of this is real. I’m dreaming.”

  He closed his eyes and heard Quinn whisper next to his ear, “I’m as real as you are.”

  Nathan started and staggered away from the voice. Opening his eyes, he saw Quinn s
till seated at the table. “You don’t look well, Nate. Something on your mind?” Quinn pushed a chair away from the table with his leg. “Have a seat. Let’s talk about your feelings.”

  Nathan shook his head and turned around. “I’m not talking to you. You’re dead.”

  “And why is that?” Quinn asked.

  His nails dug into his palms and Nathan whirled around. “You betrayed me!”

  “Dude?” Damien stood in the doorway. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Nathan looked at him. When he returned his gaze to the table, it sat empty. His breathing heavy, he turned away from Damien.

  “Who are you talking to?” Damien asked.

  Nathan bent his head over the sink. His shoulders heaved. “No one,” he muttered. He gave Damien a passing glance and left the room.

  38

  The sun crept over the horizon and shone an orange glow upon the city. Nathan’s shadow lengthened in the dissipating fog shrouding the street. Since he left Maria’s place, he had been walking most of the night. The image of Quinn seated at her table still tormented his thoughts.

  He muttered to no one as he walked. “I’m not losing it. It was just a dream…just a dream. Quinn is dead. I know that…I know he’s dead. He’s gone. I imagined him sitting there…sleep deprived. Or stress?”

  Nathan rounded a corner and cut through an alleyway. Darkness reclaimed him. He smelled wood burning ahead of him and raised his head. A trashcan smoked in the gloom, wisps of blue smoke rose in the air.

  “Morning, Nate.”

  Nathan startled. Pulled from his thoughts, he focused on the face approaching him. “Joe,” he greeted him.

  “Hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you don’t look so good.” Joe waved one hand through the tendrils of smoke. Nathan stared at the dying embers in the trashcan. A mound of ash toppled in silent destruction.

  “Sorry to hear about your partner.” Joe asked, “Everything okay?”

  Nathan glanced around, half expecting to find Quinn watching them, but they were alone. “I’m good,” Nathan answered without vigor. He noticed Joe looked at him and tried again. Clapping a hand on Joe’s shoulder, Nathan said, “Don’t worry about me, Joe. I’m a survivor.”

  Joe smiled. “Oh, I know that, Nate. But I do worry sometimes, you being one of the good ones and all.”

  Nathan’s eyes glazed over. He heard Quinn’s voice in his ear. “Nate.” He whipped his head around and alarmed Joe. “You’ll never get away with this. You’re killing a cop here.” Nathan clamped his eyes shut and covered his ears with his hands.

  Joe touched him on the shoulder. Nathan started and knocked his hand away. Joe took two steps back. Nathan groaned and said, “Sorry, Joe. I—I’m tired is all. Been a long night.”

  “It’s all right,” Joe said with a weak smile, “Think nothing of it.”

  Nathan noticed his haggard expression. “Something bothering you, Joe?”

  “Forget about it, you got enough on your plate.”

  Nathan squinted. “What is it, Joe?”

  Joe rubbed his hands together and scuffed his worn shoes on the pavement. “You remember Bradley?”

  Nathan thought about it for a moment, then said, “Your friend, right?”

  “That’s right,” Joe said, “He’s missing, and he’s not the only one.”

  “What do you mean missing?”

  Joe scratched the back of his head. “It started a few months back. Folks just disappeared. I know of ten gone missing myself.”

  Nathan furrowed his brow. He asked, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Joe shook his head. “You know how it is, we’re displaced. If we disappear, people think we went back home or found a way inside the wall. But for most of us, going back home isn’t an option, and how many displaced do you know who move on up?”

  “Not many,” Nathan admitted, “How long has Bradley been gone?”

  “Two weeks. I’m getting scared, Nate. After what happened in Bennington Place…I know something bad has happened to him.”

  Bennington Place—the blur. Nathan ground his teeth together. More people hurt because Singh caught the wrong man. “You don’t know that.” He clasped Joe’s elbow. “Leave it with me. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  Joe smiled. “Thanks, Nate. I knew I could count on you.”

  Nathan asked, “Your other friend, the one from out west.”

  “Gene.”

  “Yeah,” Nathan said, “Gene. Why did he confess to a crime he didn’t commit?”

  “He was scared,” Joe said, “Like I told you, after Bennington Place a lot of folks were. He thought he’d be safer inside than out here on the streets.”

  Nathan sighed. “You hear of anyone else disappearing, you let me know right away.”

  Joe nodded. Nathan lurched the rest of the way home and fell into bed.

  “Nathan.” Vargas pointed to an upholstered chair across from his leather wrapped lounger. “Have a seat.”

  Nathan’s eyes swept the luxurious room. He noted the open air hearth and the roaring fire. Rough stone walls and granite floors combined with wood crown moldings and a hanging chandelier, gave the Mayor’s den a ski chalet ambiance. Nathan took the offered seat and noticed Logue’s reflection in the wall length mirror behind the bar. His smile kept Nathan on edge.

  Vargas lifted a goblet of wine and swirled the liquid under his nose. With his eyes closed, he savored the aroma. “Cheval Blanc 1947.” He lowered the goblet back to the table next to his chair. “Exquisite.”

  Ice cubes clinked in Logue’s tumbler. He poured a scotch and joined them around the circular hearth.

  In a biting tone, Nathan said to Vargas, “How exciting for you.”

  Vargas stared blank faced at him. “I’d offer you a glass but, at forty thousand, I’m afraid it would be a terrible waste on your palate.”

  Nathan waved him away. “I’m fine.”

  “Matter of opinion,” Logue said. He kept his eyes on Nathan and took a gulp of his drink.

  Nathan asked, “If you two are done playing masters of the universe, can we get down to business?”

  Vargas and Logue exchanged a look before Vargas asked, “What’s on your mind, Nathan?”

  “Why have I been suspended again?” Nathan glanced at Logue. “Why have you allowed Singh this freedom?”

  Vargas and Logue exchanged another look. Logue sipped his scotch and asked, “What do you expect us to do? Singh found you in a room with three dead bodies. One of whom was a cop—your partner. You’re lucky you’re only suspended.”

  Nathan tensed his shoulders. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What were you doing at the Rouge Oreiller?” Vargas asked.

  Nathan paused. He looked at them and felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. “My source turned. I needed to deal with him.”

  Vargas leveled his gaze on him. “And did you deal with your partner as well?”

  Nathan clenched his fist and felt his nails dig into his palm. “What is this? You don’t trust me?”

  Vargas lifted his goblet and took a tiny sip of the valuable wine. He swished it around his mouth and remained silent.

  Logue said, “Truth is, Nate, you’ve become problematic.”

  “Well, too bad you don’t have a car crusher nearby.”

  Logue smirked. “We’re not there—yet. Fact is, Nate, we can’t protect you if you don’t protect yourself. This source you needed to deal with, he the same source that gave up Spagnuolo? That why you doubted him as your traitor?”

  Nathan said nothing and Logue continued. “I’ve heard rumblings about Identchip being hacked. You know anything about that, Nate? After I refused the warrant you wanted, did you have someone hack the network?”

  Nathan shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Logue downed the rest of his scotch and slammed the tumbler on a table. Ice cubes cracked again
st the glass and settled back down. “Too coincidental, Nate. I’m not buying it. Your actions have endangered our enterprise. You know Singh was a concession to our State Attorney General—how would it look if we overturned Singh’s decision on your suspension?”

  “Not good,” Vargas said.

  Logue said, “Couple that with the Identchip hack, and we’d draw unwanted attention from the AG. I warned you about Identchip—you should’ve listened.”

  Nathan narrowed his gaze. “So, you do nothing, again.” He rose from his seat and said, “How does this arrangement benefit me?”

  Vargas spluttered. “You’re paid handsomely for your role, but we can’t allow any individual’s rash decisions to jeopardize the whole.”

  “Bullshit!” Nathan swore. He jabbed a finger at Vargas. “It was your paranoia about Winslow that brought Singh into our lives. What consequences did you suffer for that rash decision? You’re so worried about the AG looking this way, maybe you shouldn’t have given him reason to!”

  “That’s enough,” Logue said.

  Nathan seethed. “No, it isn’t. You question my allegiance—why should I trust either of you?”

  Logue rose and pointed at Nathan. “Be careful where you tread. Don’t forget you need us.”

  Nathan scoffed. “What do I need you for?”

  Vargas answered, “Watch your tone, boy. Without us, King would’ve crucified you by now.”

  “You think I needed you to frame her?” Nathan said, “You allowed the son of a bitch who attacked me to go free. If someone attacked either of you, would it have gone the same? I don’t think so.”

  “That’s enough!” Logue shouted. He shared a conspiratorial look with Vargas and turned to Nathan. “You need to calm down. We all have a good thing going here, let’s not ruin it. I will pull what strings I can to shorten your time away. But for now, my hands are tied and your suspension must stand.”