“Fuck you.”
Through all this, Cassidy could only look on in amazement mixed with some horror. Not that she thought Conrad Waite was deserving of any special consideration, not if he really had murdered Theo Karras and too many others to count. No, it was more that she couldn’t believe Derek Tagawa, a man of science and learning, was capable of such violence.
He spent two years in MaxSec, she thought then. That can do a lot to change a man. Who knows…maybe he’s thinking of all the days he lost in there while he’s working up the nerve to break one of Waite’s fingers. Anyway, he’s not causing any damage that can’t be fixed by a couple of hours in a bonesetter. I’m pretty sure Waite’s employers can afford that for him.
“Alternating, it is,” Derek said, and reached over and snapped the little finger of Waite’s right hand.
This time a sort of gargled sound of agony emerged from the man’s throat, but he clamped his lips together and otherwise remained silent.
“You really want to do this the hard way, don’t you?”
Waite remained silent, and Derek glanced over at Cassidy, something in his expression softening for a moment.
“Maybe you should wait in the other room.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. It’s better if I’m here in case he somehow busts out of those sheets.”
“Oh, you definitely don’t want to be here when I get out of these sheets,” Waite snarled.
Ignoring him, Derek gave her the faintest of shrugs. “I’m not worried about it. If you’re sure you’re all right — ”
“I’m fine,” she said firmly, although she wasn’t sure if she was fine. Maybe it was the lingering traces of the champagne she’d drunk and the cocktail before that, but something about the whole situation felt completely surreal, as if this was another Cassidy Evans standing here and calmly discussing whether she should be hanging around to watch her current companion torture a man into revealing his secrets. Surely that was the sort of thing that only happened in the more surreal thriller vids?
“You’ll both get caught, you know,” Waite put in then, his voice tight with pain but still completely in control. His gaze flickered to Cassidy. “But you — I can put in a good word for you, make sure you don’t get charged with anything, if you just help me stop this mad — ”
Snap! There went the ring finger of his left hand, and that time he did let out an audible howl, perspiration now streaming down the sides of his face.
“I’m pretty sure Ms. Evans isn’t interested in any of your propositions,” Derek said.
“Not at all,” she remarked, although inwardly she wasn’t sure how much more she could take of this, despite her earlier protestation that she was just fine with standing there and watching Derek break Waite’s fingers one by one.
“Bitch.”
Another of those lightning-fast moves, and there went the ring finger of Waite’s right hand.
“Cocksucker — ”
“I’ll hazard a guess that now you’re noticing the pain is cumulative, Mr. Waite. That’s only four fingers, and you have six to go. So tell me, where were you on the afternoon of March 25, 2463?”
“I was in Cape Town, South Africa, you crazy motherfucking bastard!”
This time Derek grasped both of Waite’s middle fingers at the same time and snapped them like twigs. Cassidy had to fight to keep herself from raising her hands to her ears to blot out the resulting howl.
“You sure about that, Mr. Waite?”
“All right, all right!”
“All right, what, Mr. Waite?”
Sweat dripping from his face had made large dark blotches on the expensive shirt Conrad Waite was wearing. “All right, I was in Hunan Province. I was informed we had a situation and that I needed to take care of it. So I did.”
Derek didn’t blink. “Can you please elaborate on what ‘taking care of it’ means?”
“Eliminate Theo Karras and make sure you were blamed for it.” Waite shot a look of such venom at Derek that Cassidy was surprised when he didn’t react at all. “Too bad I didn’t kill you and frame Karras instead. That little twink probably would’ve enjoyed getting pegged in MaxSec.”
At that remark, a look of such icy rage passed over Derek’s face that Cassidy couldn’t help taking a step backward. Waite obviously saw it, too, because he abruptly shut his mouth.
A long silence. Finally, Derek said, “He was worth a hundred of you.” Then he picked up his handheld, swiped his thumb across the screen, and put it back in his pocket. “All right, we have enough. Time to go.”
Thank God. Cassidy could feel the champagne and the lobster patties resting uneasily in her stomach, and she had the feeling she was probably going to vomit if she had to watch any more of this nightmare. “I’ll get my things,” she said, and hurried into the bedroom to grab her case.
Once there, she paused and ran a hand over her forehead, feeling her own brand of clammy sweat there. Could she ever look at Derek in the same way again?
Figure that out later, she told herself. For now, we need to get going.
When she returned to the main living area, she saw that Derek had his suitcase out as well. Waite was glaring at him. “You’re just going to leave me here like this?”
“Relax,” Derek replied, flicking a glance in Cassidy’s direction. “It could be worse. At least you’re trapped in a suite in a five-star hotel.”
And with that parting shot, he inclined his head toward the door, indicating that she should go first. She didn’t argue, but hurried out of the room, head down so the security cameras in the hallway wouldn’t get a good shot of her face. A moment later, Derek followed, shutting the door on Waite’s howls, which sounded curiously muffled. She realized he must have stopped long enough to gag the hit man, as otherwise the sounds he was making would surely have disturbed the other guests and caught the attention of hotel security.
“Let’s go,” Derek said briefly, and she knew she had no choice but to follow.
Now he had his evidence. She wondered what he was going to do with it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Not even when they were in an autocab and being whisked across town to the maglev station would Derek allow himself to relax. He could feel Cassidy next to him, tense and silent, and he knew that he’d probably just ruined everything with her because of that display. But he’d have to push that aside for now. Either she’d come to understand why he’d done what he’d done, or she wouldn’t. And if she couldn’t understand that, well….
No, he wasn’t going to go there right now. Every muscle in his body ached, and he felt vaguely nauseated. Strange. He’d been dreaming of this day for the past two years, and now that he had the hard evidence he’d wanted so badly, all he could do was think about the woman sitting next to him, and what she must be thinking of him in that moment.
Better to stick to neutral subjects. “We’re taking the maglev because the security on the trains isn’t nearly as high. The strats require biometric check-in before boarding.”
“The what?” Cassidy asked, obviously confused. Those were the first two words she’d spoken since they’d left the suite.
Sometimes it was hard to remember that this was her first time on Gaia, that she’d spent her whole life on worlds with no atmosphere, in domed cities with artificial air and manufactured gravity, that the only real means of transport she’d ever known were spaceships of one kind or another, other than the underground rail lines on the Moon. “Sorry. The stratospheric liners.”
She appeared to consider that reply, then asked, “Why can’t we just go back to the spaceport and get our ship? It would be a lot faster than taking a train.”
So much she didn’t know about life here planet-side. But he couldn’t hold that against her. Despite the gaps in her knowledge, she was one of the most capable people he’d ever met. “You’ve never flown in and out of Gaia. Consortium regulations prohibit using interplanetary craft for intraplanetary use. Everything’s set up to
make sure people use government-regulated transportation to get around. We could get in that ship and fly to the Moon or back out to Europa, or lay in a subspace course for Eridani if we wanted, but we can’t use it to fly from city to city here on Gaia. It’s either strats or maglevs, I’m afraid.”
Another silence as she appeared to digest that information. “So where are we going, if we don’t have to take a strat to get there?”
“Tucson.”
A nod as she seemed to process his reply. Later he’d need to get Waite’s confession in as wide distribution as possible, but before anything else, Derek wanted to get back home, show his parents that he was innocent.
All right, after torturing another human being, he supposed he wasn’t exactly deserving of that label. Innocent of the crime for which he’d been convicted, then. That part was true enough.
He also knew that the identities they’d been provided would be compromised just as soon as the cleaning staff opened the door to the room tomorrow and discovered the little care package he’d left behind. Sooner possibly, if Waite managed to free himself. That was a calculated risk, though. Derek figured they had some time, and he planned to get in contact with their benefactor as soon as they reached the maglev station. True, there was surveillance everywhere you looked there as well, but his chances of being overheard were far lower there than here in this autocab, where everything he and Cassidy said and did was being monitored. Eventually someone might track down the recordings from this particular cab and learn that the two of them had headed to Arizona, but he planned to be long gone by then.
He wouldn’t allow himself to think about just where they might go after they were done with their business in Tucson.
The autocab stopped in front of the station some five minutes later, and Derek swiped their credit voucher over the reader before getting out. Cassidy followed, still silent. Neither did she ask for any assistance climbing out of the cab, but maybe it was because she didn’t need the help. He’d rather think it was that than because she simply didn’t want him touching her. Not that he could really blame her for feeling that way.
At this time of night, the maglev station wasn’t deserted, but neither was it as busy as it would have been during a more civilized time of day. People moved about, but with purpose, not paying any attention to him or Cassidy, or their surroundings. The place had been built during the Industrial Revival period of the late twenty-second century, and it was massive, gray, and thoroughly unappealing. Derek could see Cassidy giving it a once-over and looking unimpressed.
“I want to make a quick call,” he told her, and she nodded. There was a quiet spot behind a blocky pillar a few feet to their left, one that was conveniently out of range of the closest surveillance cam. He sheltered in the lee of the pillar and drew out his handheld, then pulled up his last conversation with their sponsor, hit “reply,” and said, “Are you available?”
A second passed, and then another. Cassidy stood a few feet away, watching him still in silence, but he couldn’t tell what might be passing through her mind at that moment. Her face was blank and quiet, as if she’d decided the best thing to do right then was reveal nothing of what she might be thinking.
What is it now, Dr. Tagawa?
Funny how he could detect a clear note of impatience in those pale blue letters. “Sorry to disturb you,” he said quietly, “but I’m afraid we’re going to need new identities again. We used these ones to check in to the Cosmopolitan, and we’ve left some evidence behind that’s going to stir up some trouble.”
Evidence?
“Evidence named Conrad Waite,” he said tersely.
Is the evidence still breathing?
“Yes.”
No need for new identities. I’ll have someone take care of it.
“You…will?”
Yes. It will be handled, and within the hour. Go ahead with your plans. I assume they involve you leaving Chicago.
“Yes, we’re — ”
No need to tell me. I’m tracking your I.D.s and will know where you’re going.
He supposed he should have thought of that. Then again, he wasn’t really used to living the life of a criminal on the run.
“Got it,” he said after a pause. “I’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
I have no doubt of that, Dr. Tagawa.
Despite everything, he felt himself smile slightly as he ended the convo and put the handheld back in his pocket. Cassidy had turned away from him and was scanning the enormous heads-up displays above the ticket kiosks.
“I don’t see Tucson listed on there,” she murmured as he approached her.
“It’s not a direct destination. We’ll have to take the maglev to Denver and then take a connecting train.”
She accepted this explanation without comment, probably because her knowledge of Normerican geography was shaky enough that she couldn’t get a clear picture in her head of where they were going. Funny, because he’d heard the schools in Luna City were actually fairly good.
No more time to worry about it now, since he saw from the ticketing display that the next train to Denver was leaving in less than fifteen minutes. He hurried over to the kiosk, Cassidy right behind him, and bought two tickets. They would be leaving from platform 93, which of course was on the opposite side of the station from the ticketing area.
“Come on — we don’t have much time,” he told her, and she picked up her suitcase and followed him, grimly hastening her pace to match his more long-legged stride. He wished there were some way for him to offer to carry her luggage, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate such a gesture. Probably just as well; he was feeling exhaustion set in with every step, and knew he didn’t have a lot of energy left in reserve.
They climbed into the maglev with approximately four minutes to spare, swiping the extruded plastic of their tickets through the reader at the door as they entered the train. Although Derek had never traveled this exact route, he knew that the maglevs were manned by human stewards who would make periodic sweeps of the cars to make sure all was in order. However, intervention generally wasn’t necessary, as you couldn’t even get on the train without a valid ticket.
The car they entered was not even a quarter full, and he pushed on toward the back, into the least populated section he could find. No point in taking the risk of having their conversation overhead.
At least Cassidy did allow him to swing her suitcase up into the overhead compartment, and he slid his in next to it, then closed the luggage bay. She’d already taken the window seat, which he thought only fair, although he doubt she’d be able to see much. This entire trip would take place in darkness, since they’d be pulling into Denver at around four hundred hours.
Enough time to catch some sleep, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to manage that. The encounter with Waite had drained him and at the same time had left him keyed up, edgy. And although their sponsor had said he — or she — would take care of the man they’d left tied up in the suite at the Cosmopolitan, Derek couldn’t help worrying over the problem in his mind, conjuring scenarios where Waite freed himself and escaped, or knocked over something in the suite and made enough noise that someone came to investigate, or —
“Hey,” Cassidy said, and he looked up. To his relief, the look she gave him now was one of concern, not loathing. “We got away. It’s going to be fine.”
“For now, maybe,” he allowed. She tilted her head, and he added, “That is, our ‘friend’ — he cast a significant glance toward the handheld in his pocket — “said he’d take care of the mess we left behind. So apparently these identities aren’t compromised, and we should be okay. But still — ”
“But you can’t help worrying. I get it.” She reached out and laid one hand on top of his. Only for a few seconds before she lifted it away, but even that brief touch was more reassuring than he cared to admit. Surely she wouldn’t have done that if she were thoroughly disgusted by what he had done to Waite back in their suite. “S
till, it sounds as if this person, for whatever reason, is really looking out for us. He — or she — hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”
No, he hadn’t. Which made Derek wonder what was in all this for that person in the shadows, someone who seemed to have a good deal of resources at his fingertips. He couldn’t be connected to the leak back on Europa. So that must mean there were several factions within the underground working independently of one another. It wasn’t that surprising, if you stopped to think about it; such a large, shadowy group wouldn’t tend to be all that homogenous. And in a dynamic like that, he supposed it wouldn’t be terribly difficult to insert a few agents who tricked everyone into thinking they were working for the cause when in fact they were doing just the opposite.
“That’s true,” he replied, when he realized Cassidy was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. “We would’ve been dead, or caught, a long time before this without his help. I just wish I knew why.”
“Maybe it’s best not to question his motivations right now. As you said, there’ve been plenty of chances for him to reveal our whereabouts to the authorities, but he hasn’t. Instead, he’s done everything he could to keep us safe. So maybe you should stop worrying about it for now, try to get some sleep.”
Practical, sensible words. He knew she was right, but could he release enough of the tension to let himself go, get the rest he knew he needed?
“I think we’re safe here,” she murmured, casting a quick glance around the cabin.
Probably. There wasn’t anyone sitting within three rows of them, and all the people they’d passed hadn’t even bothered to look up from their handhelds or computers. If anyone had been lurking on this train, waiting to spring, most likely they would have done so by now.
“All right,” he told her. “I’ll try.” And he adjusted his seat so it reclined backward, then turned on the heat and the gentle massage function. If that didn’t put him to sleep, nothing would.
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