by Mel Odom
“No, that’ll do it. I owe you lunch.”
She gave Royo a small smile at that. “Someplace out of here. I hate eating in the morgue.”
“As soon as I can.” Royo broke the connection and smiled at us, then focused on Chyou. “You were set up. This guy? He wasn’t one of the mercs you noticed. Somebody colored him up to look like one of them.”
Chyou put her taco down unfinished.
“Well, she’s not happy.” Shelly stood at my side, and I silently agreed with her assessment.
Chapter Thirty
Time became compressed and passed as we dug into the investigation—though now we knew we had a solid lead to the chimera mercs, that we had been set up, and that we were supposed to find Quentin Bradbury and be firsthand witnesses to not only his execution, but Chipembere’s death as well.
Three days of searching through cargo captains that sometimes hauled freight and passengers from the Moon to the colonies netted us a couple dozen small cases we could have gotten caught up in had we not been looking for the chimera mercs. We ignored those, not wanting to draw too much attention to the direction our investigation was taking us, and stuck with the chase. Actually, it was more of a stumbling halt.
On the morning of the fourth day, Lily Lockwell broke the news about the chimera mercs.
She stood in front of the building that housed the NADP morgue and addressed her audience. “NBN has just learned that the man who killed Quentin Bradbury was associated with an almost mythical mercenary corp on Mars.”
The image of the chimera overlaid the morgue. The media people had added animation that made the creature step out of the tattoo and stalk toward the audience.
“According to what little we’ve been able to find out, this group of mercenaries was headed up by a man named John Rath.” Lily frowned. “Unfortunately, Rath seems to have disappeared ten or fifteen years ago. We have even heard reports of his death, but we’ve been unable to confirm them. We haven’t been able to ascertain, either, that John Rath was really his name. He was supposed to have been a special forces member in Earth military, but no records have been found.”
That was a surprise. Earth military had always been able to keep track of records. Except when they didn’t want to.
“There have even been suggestions that Rath was never a single individual. Rather, he was like the infamous Kilroy of World War II, just an idea used to strike fear into the hearts of enemies. Then there are others who say that Rath was real, and that he was killed only to have his squadmates hide the body so that the legend would live on. Other soldiers have possibly taken the Rath name over the years.”
That possibility intrigued me. But it also meant that DNA evidence was still out there waiting to be discovered.
“Rath was believed to be an Earth military officer, a man dedicated to helping keep the peace in the Martian colonies. During his tours of the colonies, though, Rath’s allegiances supposedly changed and he disassociated from Earth. Of course, if the original Rath was killed off and he was replaced by someone else, that could easily account for his change of heart. Earth military stands by its belief that Rath was a loyal and exceptional soldier.”
Lily kept on at the story for a while, but she didn’t really have anything more concrete to add to it.
Rachel, Chyou, Royo, and I were circulating through the public space docks when the story broke. Rachel and Royo turned immediately to Chyou when Lily Lockwell began talking about the chimera tattoo.
Chyou kept her arms folded over her chest and returned our gazes. “Couldn’t be helped. Mr. Swan wanted to give the media something to chew on.”
Royo cursed. “You do realize that the media having this could make it even harder for us to find these people.”
“Or maybe this will make other people notice them more and help us find them faster.”
Cursing again, Royo stalked off, walking down the rows of berths where low-earth orbital ships sat awaiting takeoff. Dockhands and mechanics got out of his way.
I understood the way he felt. Rachel had a few choice words to say as well.
* * *
“Drake?”
I acknowledged Floyd’s call while standing in my flat and sectioning off a map of the public docks for the next day’s search. I had wanted to pursue the search for the cargo captain that had to have brought in the chimera mercs on my own, but Karanjai and Rachel had forbidden that.
“Yes, Floyd.”
“I have found Jonas Salter.”
“Where?”
“He’s in an online gaming community. I tracked him to the new name he’s currently using.”
“He’s using a new name?” That was intriguing. Managing such a thing and maintaining Net presence was extremely difficult.
“Yes. He is now known as Dylan Templeton. Do you know the name?”
I didn’t when Floyd mentioned it, but I did very quickly after checking the Net. Dylan Templeton was an online gaming guru, specializing in large games that spread across Earth, and even the Moon and Mars despite the time delay deficits.
His image didn’t look like the Jonas Salter that Simon Blake remembered, nor the Jonas Salter with a beard. Although years had passed since the incident on the island, Salter/Templeton looked even younger than he had then. He’d obviously had a lot of facial reconstruction done.
“I don’t understand. When he checked in at MirrorMorph, Inc. to see Mara Blake before she disappeared, he looked much different than this.”
“Obviously one of these faces is a disguise. If I were to guess, I would say it was the face he wore at MirrorMorph, Inc.”
“Why?”
“Because Templeton, although he has been reticent about being in public, has done a handful of media broadcasts over the last eight years to promote his gaming empire. This new face has been the one he has always used. Plus, this is the face he is now wearing.”
“Where is he?”
“In New Angeles.”
That was also intriguing. It stood to reason that if Jonas was trying to hide he would have gone somewhere else to do it.
“But at the moment, he is online currently gaming. I thought maybe it would be best if we approached him there.”
“‘We’?”
“If that would not be a problem. I am…intrigued by all that you are going through.”
I knew that Floyd would be. That was our nature. “I think that would be a good idea. You would be in a position to offer an outside perspective regarding the meeting.”
“Yes. Are you ready to join me now?”
“Where are you?”
“Inside one of the games Dylan Templeton has invented. I can bring you to me. Would you like me to do so?”
“Please.” I felt him tug me through the Net and went with him.
* * *
My vision returned in a blaze of color. I had sometimes roamed GameNet with Shelly’s children and I could not understand their fascination, though I understood that they were captivated by the imaginary things taking place around them. They seemed to prefer fantasy settings, and I wondered if that was still true now that their mother was gone.
“Drake.”
I looked in Floyd’s direction and found his avatar. I recognized him mostly because of the rosary he still wore. He was currently an elf, with long ears and a bow, no longer the Floyd I knew from the NAPD.
Curious, I looked down at my own chassis, discovering that I too looked like an elf. Like Floyd, I wore green clothing and looked even more human than I did as a bioroid. I also had an owl sitting on my shoulder.
“What is this?”
“That is your animal companion.”
“Where is yours?”
At that moment, a mouse stuck its head up from Floyd’s shirt collar. It wriggled its pink nose and stared at me as it clung to the fabric with its pink paws.
“Here.” Floyd touched the mouse with one of his fingers. “I have found this creature to be…most curious.”
The owl on
my shoulder eyed the mouse with what I judged to be of avarice intent, but I didn’t know much about owls, so I might have been mistaken. Evidently the mouse decided to err on the side of caution because it dropped once more inside Floyd’s shirt.
Around us, a forest rolled on endlessly beneath a deep blue sky. Wind pushed through the leaves and branches while a flock of small dragons sailed overhead.
“What is this place?”
Floyd looked around as well. “It is a land called Uhrdona. From what I gather, it is filled with quests and campaigns. I had to work through a few of them to get this far. They’ve been instructive and interesting. You’re supposed to stay alive to do these quests while fighting against goblins and dire wolves that seek to kill you. In other areas, there are other monsters.”
“Where is Jonas?”
Pointing with his bow, Floyd indicated a rise. “Not far.”
I followed him, finding it odd walking in boots made of animal skins. I was mildly surprised that they did not stink.
* * *
Jonas Salter/Dylan Templeton was also an elf, but he was adorned in robes marked with various sigils that I understood to be somehow related to the game. He wore a face that was different from the one that Floyd had only just shown me. His animal familiar was a bear-like creature that I did not recognize. I had to take Floyd’s word that this was Jonas, but Floyd had spent considerable effort tracking the man through the game.
We walked toward Jonas and that drew his attention at once. He stood within a copse of trees. Burning goblins and dire wolves littered the ground around him. His eyes narrowed at our approach.
“Who are you?” He clutched his staff and red wisps of energy orbited the end.
Floyd held up his hand, revealing his e-badge. “Detective Floyd of the NAPD.”
That surprised Jonas and he took a step back. “What does the NAPD want with me?”
“We’re looking for Mara Blake.”
Jonas shook his head. “Don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Yes, you do.” Floyd paused. “Would you prefer to be called Jonas Salter or Dylan Templeton or Eldenberry the Wizard Elf? Whichever of those names you choose, that will not change the fact that you do know Mara Blake, or that you were one of the last people to see her before her disappearance.”
Jonas looked frightened, and for a moment I believed he was going to run or disconnect from the game. I was certain Floyd had a physical location on the man before suggesting we go there, but I still felt uncomfortable.
“I didn’t have anything to do with Mara’s disappearance. In fact, I tried to get her to leave.”
“Why?”
Jonas cursed in exasperation. “Because she was in danger. I knew it. She knew it. But she wouldn’t leave. She kept insisting that she could do something.”
“What kind of danger was she in?”
Jonas’s eyes flicked back and forth between Floyd and me. “It was something from the past. Something—somebody—that we thought was dead and gone. We were wrong.”
“Do you feel you’re in danger now?”
“No. Not unless Mara told them about me. That I had come to see her.” Jonas held up a hand and gestured around. “But she didn’t know about this. She didn’t know who I had become.”
“You hid from her?” I spoke before I knew I was going to, which I discovered was very unsettling.
“Yes.”
“She was your friend. She depended on you.”
Jonas took a closer look at me, forgetting himself for a moment and stepping closer. “Who are you?”
“Detective Drake of the NAPD.”
“What are you? You’re not human.”
The owl on my shoulder shivered, fluffing its feathers. “I’m a bioroid.”
That response made Jonas stumble back. I almost reached for him, to help him right himself, then realized that act might only unnerve him further.
“You two don’t have any legal right to be here. Or to be talking to me.”
“Jonas.” I didn’t even realize I’d called him that until I heard my voice and saw his eyes widen in shock. I changed my avatar, putting on the face that I wore now instead of the elf features.
Jonas shook his head. “Who are you?” He peered at me more intensely. Then his voice became a whisper. “Simon?”
“No. Not Simon Blake.”
“That voice belonged to Simon Blake, but I know you can’t be Simon. He’s dead.”
“Mara put special programming in my neural software.”
“She modeled you on Simon?”
“Yes.”
Jonas stared at me. “You look like him.”
I didn’t bother to inform him that the change in features was something that hadn’t initially been included in the software package. “Mara also added some subroutines that impel me to find her in the event she goes missing.”
“How long have you been active?”
“Seven years.”
“Seven years?” A dry, bitter laugh choked out of Jonas. “She always played the game four steps ahead of anyone else. Mara never even mentioned you to me, and I was pretty sure she told me pretty close to everything.”
“I’m trying to find her, Jonas.”
“Do you know who took her?”
“No.”
“Neither do I. So how am I supposed to help you?”
“Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
The laugh this time sounded even more forced and brittle. “Knowing too much. Not knowing enough. Other people thinking I know too much. Take your pick. It’s all some amalgam of all those things.” He took a deep breath. “I tried to separate from MirrorMorph, Inc., and all that business with Haas-Bioroid, but as you can see: that didn’t work out too well. You two are here.”
I looked at him. “Jonas. You were her friend. I need to help her. Help me help her.”
Jonas ran a hand thorough his hair and gaped at me. “I don’t know if you’re part of the solution. Or if you’re part of the problem. It could be the best thing you can do is stay away from her, wherever she is.”
“I can’t do that.” I paused. “I don’t believe I’m supposed to do that. Mara created this part of me to go after her when she needed help. I know that because she told me.” I pulled up that memory and broadcast it to Jonas. In the real world, it would have come out as a video created by my illustrator programs, but there in the gaming world, it looked like I had summoned up a crystal ball.
Jonas peered into the depths of the crystal ball and watched as Mara told me again that she needed my help. Her voice rang through the still air in the trees. When the message finished, the crystal ball disappeared.
He stood there, breathing hard.
“Jonas, I remember you.” I looked him in the eye. “I remember when you helped Mara and me flee from the island where she was almost captured. I remember when you and I were nearly killed down in the lab. I carried you out of that tunnel after you’d been shot.” I didn’t feel like he owed me anything, but the part of me that had come from Simon Blake did. “Help me find Mara.”
For a moment I thought he was just going to fade out of the game. Instead, he nodded. “Let’s meet. We can’t talk here. Even with all the encryption inside this game, I can’t completely control the environment. If Mara’s alive, you’re the only one I know that can get her back.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The next night, Rachel and I took the Beanstalk down to Earth and found Floyd waiting. I’d tried to leave her behind, but she’d refused to listen even though she was worn out. She slept on the way down, then, together, we walked with Floyd to his hopper and none of us spoke. There was nothing to say.
I’d told Rachel that the visit to Earth was personal business and had gone on to briefly explain my connection to Simon Blake and Mara. She’d been fascinated.
I felt that I could trust her. Shelly agreed. Floyd didn’t show any surprise that I had Rachel accompanying me. Either he had known she was assigned to me, or
he just accepted her because I did. I didn’t ask.
I sat in the passenger seat and watched the canyons of New Angeles spool beneath us. Some of the buildings had added a few more floors, but that was to be expected. New Angeles was always building, always expanding, making room for the new by building onto the old or tearing away things that no longer served.
I had never felt like any place was home. Haas-Bioroid had been home when I’d first come online and was later outfitted with all the neural programming I needed to become a fully functioning unit. I didn’t feel like New Angeles was home now, but I knew that I—and Simon Blake—had a lot of history there.
And I felt the void where Shelly Nolan had been. That was most uncomfortable.
* * *
“This is a glam place.” Rachel looked properly impressed as she clambered out of Floyd’s hopper. She seemed just the least bit wobbly from being back under full gravity, but she was adjusting quickly.
My body had adjusted almost instantly because it wasn’t reliant on muscle memory. My programming simply quickly adapted.
I didn’t respond to Rachel’s assessment. Glam was one of those descriptor words that I had assigned meaning to, but not any special significance. It was throwaway jargon that didn’t require a response. I stayed focused on the coming interview and found myself increasingly curious about what Jonas would have to say.
A security team met us at the elevator, verified our credentials—although they hesitated for a moment over Rachel’s, then admitted us to the building. Jonas Salter—as Dylan Templeton—lived on the one hundred ninety-third floor. We took the elevator down.
The door to Jonas’s flat opened at our approach. He stood waiting for us on the other side. His eyes immediately went to Rachel. “Hello again, Ms. Beckman.”
“Mr. Templeton.” Rachel inclined her head slightly as her gaze slid around the room. I felt certain she’d just blueprinted the massive living room as thoroughly as I had. After working with her the last few days, I’d been impressed by her cognition. She was very good at her job.
