A Memory in the Black (The New Aeneid Cycle)

by Michael G. Munz

  Last week's outburst at his old apartment meant he was trying to regain the consciousness he remembered. He refused to believe it had been six months since he'd lived there, as if such a thing would invalidate his existence. Ondrea had barely managed to talk him down and get him back to Marquand.

  The company hadn't wanted to let him go out there at all, but Ondrea had told them that it was necessary. She was certain that once he was satisfied with what she had told him, his subconscious would be more willing to share the secrets they sought. Trying to force things along might have catastrophic results, and she refused to lose her brother now.

  The elevator doors opened onto a view of the bio labs and one of her lab assistants running straight toward her. She stepped out and he gripped her arm as if he might blow away otherwise.

  "Where've you been?" The way he whispered it set alarms in her head screaming.

  "Jesus, Beck, getting some lunch. What happened? Is he okay?"

  "I don't know. He broke out. He's gone!"

  Outside, a tow truck had somehow gained a spot ahead of the crashed delivery truck. Inside the main lobby of the Marquand building, its flashing hazard lights caught Felix's eye through the windows as he waited for the receptionist to check his computer.

  "I'm sorry," he said, regaining Felix's attention. "Ms. Noble has not given permission to be paged for public visits."

  "Well, that has to be a mistake," Felix tried. "How do I let her know I'm here?"

  "I'm sorry, but if she's expecting you, she should have logged your appointment with the system." The man watched Felix patiently, his eyes apologetic, yet clearly hoping Felix would be satisfied with his explanation.

  Not likely. "That's hardly my fault, I think. Look, I know she's in the bio labs. I'm sure she just forgot to say I was expected."

  "I can't give you a pass for the labs, sir. If you like, I can take a message and see that she gets it."

  "But she won't get it immediately."

  "She'll get it as soon as she checks her messages."

  "Right, but that will be when?"

  The receptionist frowned. "I'm afraid I can't speak to that, sir. But it's the best I can offer."

  "The best you can do."

  The receptionist nodded contritely. Felix harrumphed, let him wait, and glanced across the wide foyer to where Caitlin stood. Marquand had sacrificed the space of four stories above ground level to aesthetics in order to create a spacious, open area accented with a mix of mirrored trim and cascading plant life that spilled down around octagonal support pillars. It was a mix of technology and life that matched the company philosophy. Along the wall, transparent elevator shafts rose up, met the ceiling, and disappeared into the structure above. At the moment, Caitlin was watching the shafts.

  Felix turned back to the receptionist. "Alright, a message. Tell her a friend of Gideon's is here to see her. And him."

  The receptionist dutifully took it down along with Felix's phone number. "And your name, sir?"

  "Just tell her it's Felix," he said. "She'll know me."

  She wouldn't, of course, but the message itself might get her attention if he couldn't find another way in before then. Temporarily unable to come up with a suitable smart-assed remark, Felix turned away from the desk. He would give the man a few minutes and then come at him anew.

  Where had Caitlin gone?

  A few glances revealed no trace of her among the small groups of people waiting near the elevators. Curious, he strode about the lobby. There seemed to be no sign of her inside, though he doubted she was in trouble. Caitlin was certainly capable of taking care of herself. He still owed her for coming to his own rescue once, in fact.

  Felix crossed to the wall opposite the reception desk and took a seat in one of the plush couches he found there. He watched, he waited, and he glared at the receptionist who'd been keeping an eye on him since he'd left the desk. He tried to think of what to say when he was ready to harass him again, but he couldn't stop wondering what interesting thing Caitlin had found to go off and do.

  He should've let her talk to the receptionist, dang it.

  His phone rang. It was Caitlin.

  "Felix, get to the parking exit, hail a taxi, and wait for me."

  He was up and moving for the door before she'd finished her sentence. By her tone, she wasn't in trouble; she'd found something. "Bossy, aren't you?" he teased. "You sure you don't want to come in here and play with my receptionist friend? He's all bureaucratic and efficient!"

  "Felix, you need to hurry on this."

  "Don't worry, I'm already outside." He jogged around the corner to where the parking garage fed out onto the street from below the building. "Where are you, anyway?"

  "Don't worry, I'll meet you there. I need to go." A moment later, she'd hung up.

  "That wasn't what I asked," he muttered with a grin. She liked keeping secrets too much. That was his job. Hardly fair of her to spoil his fun by making it her own.

  No wonder he liked her.

  Cabs were abundant in the Corporate District, and he had one idling just outside the garage when Caitlin raced out on foot, jumped in beside him, and told the driver to follow the grey sedan that had slipped out ahead of her.

  "We got lucky," she explained with a grin.

  "Is it them?"

  "It's her. I spied her on a lift going down and caught the one beside it. She was making for the garage. She's with someone else, a man, and they're in a hurry. It wasn't hard to tail them."

  Felix grinned back. "And you said we weren't making any progress."

  Halfway down the block, Diomedes caught sight of the blonde woman in a car leaving the garage. Headed his way. Grey sedan, passenger's seat. He'd nearly missed her, would have missed her if not for the hardware in his eyes.

  Worth the price.

  She might be leaving the Corporate District. Might make herself vulnerable. There was someone else in the car. He'd have to be careful.

  He let the sedan pass and pulled out to follow. A few cars back, behind a city cab, he drove. He watched. He waited.

  Soon. . .

  CHAPTER 14

  "I hate this place," Ondrea whispered.

  The building still stood, couched in crumbling brick. Ondrea never cared for it, though that wasn't so much for the building itself as the time in Gideon's life it represented. She had visited numerous times when he lived here to upgrade his old cybernetics, let him try her new designs, and just to check on him. It was something they could have done more comfortably at her place, but he hadn't wanted to put her at risk should anyone trace him to her home.

  A turn-of-the-century apartment on the edge of the University District, it remained a centerpiece in her brother's memory of his old life.

  Ondrea looked back down at the tracking receiver that she held on her thigh as her assistant pulled the car into an open spot on the street about halfway down the block. "He's in there."

  Beck turned off the engine. "Assuming that thing's working, what now?"

  "Will you have a bit of confidence in your own designs?" Beck was a definite engineering talent, but the amount of hand-holding his ego needed often overpowered her patience.

  "It's not that. We just installed the beacon on the chassis. It's not fully tested."

  Ondrea ignored the distasteful "chassis" comment. "We're getting some sort of signal. He's in there." It made sense that he would be. Had they no tracker, the apartment would have been her first guess.

  "Like I said, what now? Still set on going in alone?"

  She undid her seatbelt and tucked the receiver into her blazer. "Still, yes. If it's just me I can talk him down easier." She flashed him a warning glare. "And don't call Marquand. Not unless you hear from me first."

  Beck accepted the order with a nod. Eager to please as ever. It was just as well; she didn't want to have to explain her fears to him. Marquand had invested a lot of money in Gideon, that was certain, but she didn't know how well they would tolerate a failure to cooperate. She
preferred not to risk it.

  Ondrea left the car, waited as a cab passed them by, and then crossed the street toward her brother's past.

  The distance at which he tailed the woman had Diomedes rounding the block in time to spot her entering the apartment building. The car she'd arrived in sat parked nearby. One man remained with it. Was she going to meet someone? Was this her home?

  Diomedes drove just around the corner to a spot on the edge of the intersection. He could still see the entrance. It was a key spot: good vantage point, easy to leave quickly. Might be illegal. He'd have to watch for cops.

  He weighed his options. If she did live there, she'd be out soon. The man in the car wouldn't wait otherwise. It left little time to move on her. If she was there to meet someone? He'd have to find out who. How many. How strong. The man in the car would know.

  But a car like that. . . Luxury car drivers were jumpy. Any move he made against the man, he'd call the cops. Hard to be sure how fast they'd come around here. Too risky. He could neutralize the man from a distance, but he'd be more useful alive, and his shot was blocked.

  Familiarity nagged at him. He'd been here before, but why? It wasn't likely the woman lived here, either. Too run down, wrong place for her type. Half a block from the building to her car. If Diomedes was careful, he could intercept her when she came out. Pull her in and go. He could sideswipe the car against her if he needed to.

  And if she's not alone?

  Might be too risky. He could just take her out from the car. Line of sight would make it easy. But then she'd just be gone, without her knowing why. He'd have the rifle ready, though.

  The minutes ticked by. Five, then ten. Maybe she lived there after all. The man in the car might be watching over her. Diomedes could wait longer, or he could break in a back entrance. But the building was big; she'd be hard to find. She might leave before he finished his search. He needed another set of eyes on the front entrance and cursed his lack. Assets. He needed assets. He would wait here longer.

  The large voice began to crawl against the inside of his skull. Diomedes shifted in his seat.

  She came out. He brought the gun higher, just under the window. He'd keep it hidden until he was ready to fire. His left hand was on the gun, his right on the ignition. As he waited for the best course of action to reveal itself, she stopped in the doorway and looked back.

  Someone was coming out with her. Patience. Another man stepped into view behind her. At once it all made sense: He knew why he remembered this building! He'd left that man for dead six months ago! That night flashed in his mind. That man should be dead!

  The vigilante! Gideon! They'd both set him up for revenge! The realization froze him. His weapon was heavy in his hands as they descended the building's front steps.

  Kill him! came the large voice. Finish the job!

  Anger smashed his doubt. Diomedes fired.

  The bullets struck Gideon's shoulder with little effect. Hard to kill. Instantly, Gideon dove to shield the woman. Diomedes adjusted, fired a second burst that shattered windows behind where they huddled, and then switched the weapon to full-auto a moment before a passing freight truck blocked line of sight.

  It passed in an instant. Gideon was gone. The woman stood, a foolish target, yelling.

  Her turn.

  He aimed at the bitch and fired again.

  Felix and Caitlin were coming from the apartment building's back entrance and into a hallway leading to the lobby when they heard the first shots. Worried glances exchanged, they both rushed to the front as fast as they dared. Another burst rang out and found them staring out the front door at Ondrea and a man in sweats and a dark jacket whom Felix thought could only be Gideon. Shots burst around them again. Felix and Caitlin cursed and threw themselves to the floor inside the doorway.

  "Felix," Caitlin whispered. She didn't have to say it was Gideon for him to know that was what she was thinking, too.

  But who was shooting?

  A truck passed and shielded the building for a few precious moments. Felix watched as Gideon pushed Ondrea to safety behind a car and darted forward to jump onto the truck's rear bumper. Ondrea was back up in a blink and yelling after him. The truck continued down the street and passed a parked car up the block. Felix saw the shooter.

  Felix hissed the name. "Diomedes!"

  "What?" Caitlin burst.

  She was up and dashing out the doorway before Felix could stop her. Diomedes fired again through Felix's yell as Caitlin rushed to Ondrea and pulled the other woman to cover again in a near-tackle. Felix moved to follow a second later, but gunfire cut across his path and forced him to take cover against the cement wall of the steps.

  Caitlin was doing her best to hold onto Ondrea. "Stay down!"

  "Let me go!" she yelled, struggling. "You don't know what you're doing!" Bullets sprayed into the engine block.

  "Stay down!" Though momentum and surprise first helped Caitlin get Ondrea down, her smaller size made keeping her there a losing battle.

  The gunfire stopped long enough for Felix to risk a look above the wall at Diomedes. Gideon had reached him. The two grappled through the car window for the rifle.

  Tires squealed from the opposite direction as the sedan in which Ondrea had come pulled up and screeched to a stop in front of the building, its driver yelling. Ondrea wrenched herself from Caitlin's grip and scrambled out to it. Shots rang out again, fired blindly from Diomedes in his struggle a moment before Gideon flung the weapon to the ground.

  Felix dashed to Caitlin's side, one hand slamming into the fender to stop his momentum and the other grabbing her arm to keep her there. Frantic looks exchanged, they both peered out at the road as an engine revved, tires squealed again, and Diomedes's car bulleted into the street with Gideon clinging to the hood. There was only enough time to see the latter raise a fist as if to smash the windshield before the car barreled out of view.

  Ondrea's sedan took off a second later with a hard U-turn that scraped metal against a parked car and pointed it in the direction opposite Diomedes's escape. Rubber peeled and burned. Seconds later, Felix and Caitlin were alone on the block.

  "Christ," Caitlin gasped. "Are you alright?" She turned to Felix and looked him over for any injury.

  "I'm fine, fine. I should be asking you the same question! God, Caitlin—" He stopped as the words all bunched up trying to get out. He could hardly get angry for acting like the woman he'd fallen in love with but— "Damn it!" he finally burst. "Next time it's my turn to give you the heart attack!"

  She grabbed him into a quick, tight hug. "I'm sorry. But I'm okay." She released him. "What the hell is happening? You're sure that was Diomedes? I couldn't see."

  "Sure as I am about anything," he said. "But as for what's happening, I think the question is which one of those cars are we going to follow?"

  Diomedes floored the gas, shooting the car past a blur of buildings. He swerved hard, he swiped it against parked vehicles, and still the vigilante hung on. A parking garage loomed on the right. Diomedes hooked the car into it. Gideon gripped against the force that flung him to the edge of the hood and refused to let go even as the car scraped bottom on the ramp to the second level. It catapulted off the ramp, landed again, and bounced on worn shocks with a loss of control that smashed them into a parked van.

  The collision bruised a seatbelt line across Diomedes's chest and flung Gideon onto the concrete. Diomedes watched the body tumble like a rag doll and then stop. For just a moment, he lay there.

  In another instant, the man was up. Powerful strides carried him away across the garage. Diomedes slammed the car into reverse, pulled back from the van, and then sped forward after him.

  Gideon should be dead. Gunshot, point blank from behind! He should be dead!

  An easy shot, and you couldn't do it right. You're incompetent! "Incompetent freelancer!" Kill him now or they'll all think that!

  Gideon still ran. Fast, but it wouldn't be enough. Diomedes drove the car up behind him on the
next ramp up and clipped Gideon with the bumper on a turn that sent the car skidding and Gideon tumbling off his feet into a wall. Diomedes regained control, turned the car again, and saw his prey struggle to his feet once more.

  Diomedes remembered Gideon's cybernetics. Implants, limb replacements, maybe more than Diomedes's own if he could take such punishment. He mashed the gas pedal. He'd pin the freak to the wall, crush him against cement!

  Gideon sprang onto the hood a second before the car hit the wall. The impact threw him back but he didn't let go. Instead, the vigilante raised his fist to smash the already damaged windshield. Diomedes reversed hard again. It kept Gideon from doing more than crack the glass and struggle to hold on.

  Diomedes angled the car toward the railing at the edge of the level. He eyed the three-story drop as Gideon regained his balance, and then launched the car forward. Parked cars became a blur. The railing loomed as Gideon turned to look.

  Diomedes stomped the breaks and bellowed. Tires screeched. The car slammed against the railing. Momentum ripped the vigilante from the hood and spilled him over the side as the railing stopped the car completely. It trapped the car in its punctured mesh. Front tires hung useless over the edge.

  Trying to block the pain of the impact, Diomedes finally pushed himself out of the car and looked over the side. The body he'd expected to see broken on the street was not there.

  His prey was gone.

  CHAPTER 15

  The two terabytes of data that the hackers downloaded from Paragon were, so far, mostly incomprehensible gibberish. The ESA analysts called it fragmented code. They cited their understanding of the alien computer's principles as barely rudimentary and threw about simile and metaphor in an effort to define their lack of progress: It was like trying to see the whole picture by looking at a few drops of paint. They were toddlers trying to comprehend Shakespeare with only half the alphabet. They were cavemen peering over Einstein's shoulder, and so forth.