by Tal Turing
Ed sighed. If she was right about the storage car, then the man, if he even existed, had significant corporate backing. If she were right, it could be serious. If she were right.
“I still don't understand the complaint. What is this cross-divisional complaint?”
For the first time, she paused rather than rattling off facts and deductions.
“There are two parts of the complaint...”
Of course.
“Could you just give me the more serious...” Ed asked hastily.
“Fine,” but she paused again, unsure. “Well...what I saw on the train...could be a serious matter. Even if I am wrong, even if I think I was wrong, and I do not...well, it is not for me to judge, or even you to judge, it has to be reported promptly. Failure to do so, even if a subsequent investigation found nothing, is itself a serious violation. I told Ops I had such a report to make and they refused to accept it. I then spoke to my manager in Hospitality and he did the same thing. That makes two divisions and the entire purpose of the cross-divisional escalation procedure...”
“Okay,” he sighed. He got it.
“Ed...Deputy, I mean, whatever you think of me, you know that I take these things...”
Seriously. Annoyingly so. But he had already decided how to handle her. It wasn't his original plan, but it would have to do.
“Okay...okay. I need you to walk out the main entrance, I said the main entrance, and keep walking, do not stop for anyone,” he barked even as he dispatched another message.
The Interrogator
Cynnamon walked across the uneven, painted grass which marked the entrance to Transom House. It was not well maintained except for the color and so it was difficult to keep a steady pace but soon she could see the guard house.
Keep walking, go right through, ignore the angels.
She considered. At least Harilla had taken her complaint, at least she thought he had. No one else had even listened and fortunately the rebuff from both Operations and Hospitality gave her grounds to raise it to Security. And although he was one of the last ones she wanted to approach, Edwyrd Harilla was known almost as much for being a stickler for the rules as he was for having a volcanic temper. At least that was the person she remembered. If he would not take her seriously, no one else would. She had to take this chance and that meant she had to cooperate with him, to trust him.
She walked right by the frightful, dark, flying knights; she ignored her buzzing AI as it tried to dissuade her. She did not increase her pace nor decrease it. She disregarded the communication warnings from the sentries and tried not to worry when she realized that Ed had closed his communication link. She walked and kept walking.
Just as it occurred to her that she could be shot, her arm was violently yanked and her view twisted back until she was face to face with a black armored guard. His helmet was removed and she could see his balding head, the graying, bushy eyebrows and he was bellowing his displeasure. She just looked at him as if he were speaking another language. What would happen now?
She saw another vehicle had landed nearby, probably more guards; she would really get a working over this time.
But it was not more guards, it was a single, short, masculine figure, dressed in the dark garb of Transom security.
“What is going on?” the Deputy demanded with uncharacteristic calmness as he strode toward them, ignoring her, giving the guard an expectant stare.
“She ran the sentries, she refuses to explain herself,” the guard huffed, his face red.
“She is Transom,” Harilla observed, “so she shouldn't have to check in, why did she raise an alarm?”
Cyn too wanted to know why she had been restricted to Transom House grounds. Did this mean that Harilla didn't know either?
“I don't know why, Deputy, but the AI insists she is in violation,” the bald man insisted.
“And you don't know why?” Ed's eyes were black, a storm brewing inside.
“I don't know, sir.”
Harilla paused for a moment before issuing his next command.
“Call an interrogator, the most senior officer on duty. Can you do that? And find out why she is restricted to Transom House, that is a red flag in itself.”
“She's probably some house whore, that would explain it,” the man began, relaxing.
“Really? That is your conclusion? Are you betting your life on it? Or just the lives of everyone else?” Ed's dark eyes flashed like a death ray.
“I'm not sure but we stopped her just as the AI instructed...”
“Not satisfactory, you should know why, now go make the call. I can't leave until someone arrives to take her.”
Cyn watched as the guard hurried off to the building. She did not turn, but glanced over at the Patron's youngest son. He must be over thirty years old now but still had many of the same mannerisms. Time had gone by so fast. He spoke quietly.
“Tell your story to the interrogator.”
“Yes,” but she felt worried.
“You never stated the shipping destination from the manifest, the one where all the medical equipment was sent.”
“Yes,” she had not told him. He might be part of this. But she didn't see that she had any choice at this point. “I will send you the manifest, I acquired it from...”
“Can you just tell me?”
“I could,” she said, surprised. He was such a suspicious person, she thought he would insist on the proof. Perhaps he was leaving that for the interrogator. “It's a building named Laboratory 8 in New Humantis Dome.”
“Humantis?” Ed turned as another vehicle approached the pair. It landed and a large man got out. “This will be your ride.”
“I've never been interrogated before....by a professional,” she spoke as she watched the lone interrogator approach.
“Tell him what you think, as you think it. If you hesitate, tell him why you are hesitating. Keep the words coming out. Somehow I think you can do that.” Ed said as he walked away.
Stym
Cyn sat in a hard, uncomfortable, metal chair, her wrists bound behind her as the giant man returned to the bright, sterile room, both of his hands full. He placed one cup of water on the table near her and another closer to him, flashing a toothy grin.
“Sorry for the wait, it took some time to get some possibilities on your friend 'Darren' and to authenticate this 'shipping manifest' of yours. And you wanted water, right?”
She did, an hour ago.
He took a sip of his water as he nodded toward a large monitor which now displayed a five by five grid of mug shots, each labeled by a different number. “Every time the screen changes, enter the number of 'Darren' if you see him, else wait for the next display.
He looked meaningfully at the keypad in front of her.
She twisted and held up her bound wrists.
“Oh, sorry, I was supposed to remove those, oops.” The giant stood quickly and moved around behind her and for a second, Cynnamon braced herself, sensing his closeness, but he only released her bonds. She flexed her wrists, took a quick drink from the cup and lay her hands on the table, her eyes turning to the screen. She looked at the various pictures but none of them was Darren. It would have been a relief if she had seen him. Seconds passed.
“He is not there.” she said simply.
“Want to look again?”
“I don't need to look again.”
“Are you sure? This guy is real, isn't he?”
“Of course, but you aren't showing him to me,” Cyn said simply.
With seemingly infinite patience, Stym moved on to another set of images.
The Past
Edwyrd's face was expressionless when he returned for her. He didn't say a word as they walked, him one step ahead, to the sentry house and through the door.
“You,” Ed demanded to the guard who had stopped Cyn earlier, “what did you find out about this asset's security clearance?”
“Uh,” the man stood up and turned toward Harilla. “She is listed as
unassigned even though she is working for Hospitality, and that is why...”
“Is that correct? Is it valid?” Ed demanded.
“Uh, well no...but maybe..” the man was obviously confused and yet wanting to please his boss or his boss's boss or whatever Ed was to him.
“So how are you going to fix this? Or is she going to set off alarms everywhere she goes?”
“I could...well...”
Ed waited, seemingly patient now.
“I could drop her into the hospie group?” The poor guard suggested and then watched Ed for any sign he had said anything that might be correct.
“Fine, could you do it now? Thank you,” Ed muttered as he walked for the door. Cyn watched him go and then realized she should follow.
The glimmer in the clouds indicated an invisible sun had set over the edge of the valley and the dome was darkening rapidly. Now she could see the interior lights of Transom House in the distance. Soon the windows themselves would darken as well and that light would vanish.
He walked on the other side of the rocky, bumpy path which led the way back. Cyn noticed his side-arm as if for the first time. His foot falls were heavy as they walked. She assumed they were returning to Transom House but she didn't understand why he did not drive them back.
“This should have been reported earlier, as soon as you arrived,” he declared.
“Is that a joke? Because you sound serious,” she retorted. She was tired, the interrogation was painless but it was stressful and grueling and they were still treating her like the enemy.
“We have to talk,” Ed stopped but did not turn to her. “Why are you here?”
Cynnamon looked at him, surprised.
“I already explained, Patron sent for me; or more correctly, he requested someone from Ops and they sent me. I didn't have any choice in the matter and if...”
“Do you have other reasons for being here?” Now he turned and looked at her, she imagined that his eyes were intense and suspicious but it was becoming hard to see him in the fading light.
“No,” she said slowly.
“I'm not so sure. The timing is suspicious, I was just promoted to Deputy and here you are...”
What did that mean? It had been a long day and it might have been a short one if he had taken her report, without delay, and simply investigated it all himself while she slept.
“Congratulations,” she said without emotion. “What does that have to do with me?”
“No one sees you in ten years...it's strange,” he insisted.
Now she was becoming angry. “Ask Patron to release my commitment and I'll leave tonight, I'll walk back if I have to.”
They stood in the darkness, Cyn toyed around with the idea of continuing the walk to the house. Or she could try to walk into the trees. But she knew she would be pushing it. She should be happy he even listened to her. What if he hadn't? She had a 'Plan C' but it was not well-thought-out.
“What happened to you? After graduation?”
Cyn gasped. Somehow, she had never believed any of them would speak to her of this. It was the elephant in the room that she wished would die. The next word out of her mouth was only to buy time.
“Explain.”
He was ready to do so, as if he had had the conversation before.
“You never attended the graduation ceremonies, or the parties. You simply vanished without a word of notice to anyone. Why.”
It wasn't a question.
“It's been a long time, but as I recall, I didn't feel well...I went to the station and waited until it was time to leave...”
Now it was his turn to pause, to be silent. The low groan of the dome seemed to rise in intensity around them, muffling their voices and their breathing.
“You were attacked, it's not the same thing,” his voice was definitive. He was telling her.
“Why does it matter, Eddie? It was a long time ago.” She didn't bother to debate the point. Somehow, he knew. Then others might know as well.
She was aware she had used his name in that way, the way his brothers used it, the way all the other students had used it, even when he did not like it; she wasn't sure she should have said that. She was about to correct herself, to apologize.
“I was there,” the words came out of the darkness. Like a phantom rising from the pits of the Earth, like a dagger from the darkness. Cynnamon felt light-headed. She had not known for sure who they were, and she was just happy to have gotten away, to be alive, to have left it all behind.
But there had been nights she had thought about the assault and speculated if her attacker had known her. Ed had been angry at her, he was often angry those days and she sometime thought he was the one, but sometimes not. But she had never been sure and so, one day, she had put it all in a little box and didn't think about it again. Until she had returned to New Berlyn.
“Then it was you. The one who...the first one.” The one responsible for the bruises, the one who had knocked her down while the other one watched and laughed and called her names.
His silence was his assent.
“Well, that would explain why I never heard from you,” she sighed, suddenly exhausted, wanting to get this over with. “It's not something I think about much these days. At the time, I did realize it might have been you, but I wasn't sure. So many people were upset with me, that I was leaving, that I was going to Techview, especially you.” She let that sink in. It was the truth.
“Fine,” she continued, her voice returning to normal. “I still don't see that it matters any more. Believe it or not, I do good work in Techview, I enjoy it most of the time, and there are people there who care about me. I just want to go back.”
“That's it?” His reply came right away. “Nothing else to it? No anger, no screaming, no threatening revenge? It doesn't outrage you that I am now the Deputy of Transom Security? That I have anything to do with protecting people?”
She was starting to understand.
“You think I came here for some sort of pay-back?” She looked up, trying to find his face in the darkness. “I'm a bloody corporate asset, I am lucky if I can run an errand on my short, frequently-skipped, lunch hour much less get time to dream up plans of revenge. And if somehow I magically was able to hurt any of those who have hurt me over the years, I promise you that you aren't even near the top of my hit list.” She was angry now. She wanted him to realize how stupid he was. She stepped blindly in the darkness toward him, almost stumbling on the uneven ground, her voice rising. “And even if I somehow wanted to relive that awful night and tell someone about it, I still wouldn't ever bother, do you know why? Do you want to know why, Deputy?”
He didn't answer her. So she continued: “Because nobody fucking cares what happened to me even last week much less ten YEARS ago. No one.”
Silence. And darkness. The darkness played tricks with her eyes, was he standing there? Had he left? Had he drawn his weapon?
“So what the hell was that song? What were you singing?” the confused voice came out of the pitch.
“You mean at the club? So we are done speaking of the past and you just want to know the words to some old song?” The frustration came out of her voice.
“Everyone knows the words, I didn't recognize your words...”
“I was scared out of my mind, Eddie! Go listen to the recordings I am sure you made and you tell me what the hell I said!” Then, she lowered her voice. “Listen, I know you helped me today. You took my report when no one else would. And I know you fixed my security even if you pretended like you were just cleaning up. Hospies have privilege all over the city. So I appreciate it. But I don't need anything else. If you did that out of guilt, then fine, but I don't want anything more. Am I free to go?”
But she didn't wait for a reply. She turned back toward the building and walked the rest of the way.
Darren
It was over. When her demeanor had changed, so suddenly, as if she had become a different person, he was startled. And when she said th
ose words: “Transom Ops”, his heart sank and he knew it was over.
Darren looked at the young woman who had so smoothly and easily set him up. He glared at her angrily but she neither taunted him nor seemed sorry for him, she did not ignore him nor pay him any extra attention. He was just an assignment to her and she was dutifully tying up the strings of the package. Then she left, only to be replaced by a giant of a man, in gray security garb, an interrogator.
He looked away and sighed to himself. He had just started to think about getting out, taking his money and moving to one of the more brilliant Joyas, perhaps Fulton, but then he decided he would needed a little extra money, in case he wanted to change his appearance. How he regretted that now.
“Hello, Mr. Fuchs, Darren,” the blonde giant said as if he was selling insurance. “What a coincidence, I see we work for the same company. That will make things easier.”
Of course the creature was being facetious. Darren had been caught impersonating a Transom officer and if there was a list of 10 deadly corporate sins, that was high on the list.
Patron
Patron retired to his small, but exclusive bungalow located in Transom Villas. After his wife had died, five years ago, he could no longer bear to live at Transom House. All his memories of her were there. She had made that place her own project, her passion and everyone had loved her. Hers were shoes he couldn't fill and neither did he want to. Besides, the boys had grown, each following their own, strange paths.
His thoughts of Lana had come back to him, as they usually did, when he removed the strange device from his vault and activated it. The ID2000, personal reflector, was an unexpected gift from a representative of Daneel Tech and he had customized it using her voice and appearance. He closed his eyes so his body could rest even while he thought.
