Android: Rebel (The Identity Trilogy)

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by Mel Odom


  “I’m enjoying dinner as well.”

  She sighed. “I didn’t mean to refer to you as an employee, either.”

  “But that’s what I am.”

  She looked like she wanted to say more, but we were interrupted. “Simon, you’ve got a man headed in your direction.” Kendra Robeson’s voice carried easily to my earpiece.

  Mara might have taken me to dinner, but I had assigned a three-man team to accompany us. Getting dinner reservations for them had been expensive and tactically challenging.

  I held up my left forefinger, signaling Mara that I had to attend to her security. Nervousness tightened her eyes, but otherwise she made no overt changes. She had placed her life in my hands and trusted me completely.

  Six meters away, closing at a non-threatening pace but with hostility and determination making his steps sharp and steady, a man dressed in a tailored, double-breasted suit approached our table.

  “Do you have an ID on the man?” I asked Kendra.

  Mara answered at the same time my second-in-command did. “His name’s Conway Gerrold.” Mara frowned.

  “He’s a Human First representative,” Kendra added. “Guy has a history of aggressive behavior toward Haas-Bioroid and other bioroid and clone manufacturers.”

  “How aggressive?”

  “He doesn’t do any of the work himself, but he’s been charged with destruction of property twice and conspiracy to commit destruction of property four times. None of those charges have stuck.”

  “Is he alone?”

  “Negative. There are four bodyguards seated at his table.”

  “Are they still seated?”

  “They are.”

  By that time, Gerrold had reached our table, and I had my right hand on the small needler holstered at my hip. I made sure the weapon didn’t show and that I didn’t look hostile in any way.

  Gerrold dismissed me immediately and focused on Mara. His wavy blond hair fell down in front of his face and made him look younger than I guessed that he was.

  “Ms. Parker,” he addressed Mara.

  She cut him off instantly but remained smiling. “Dr. Parker, if you please, Mr. Gerrold.”

  Gerrold hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Dr. Parker. I was not aware that we had met.”

  “We haven’t, but I know who you are and what your platform is, and I know that we’ll never agree on anything you want to talk about.”

  Gerrold frowned at that. “I wished to talk to you about the new neural channeling techniques you’re developing.”

  Mara pushed herself back in her seat, making herself more of a target. The black dress she wore had armor woven into it. I’d made certain of that. But with the bare shoulders and cleavage, there was a lot of vulnerable flesh open to anyone that wanted to hurt her.

  “I’m not going to discuss anything I’m working on with you, Mr. Gerrold. Certainly not something that would be highly classified material.”

  “Highly classified or not, secrets have a way of getting out into the megapolis.” He gazed at her with smug disapproval. “I’ve heard that you’re going to be able to bring the dead back to life with the programming you’re working on.”

  “You do hear the most interesting things.” Mara ran an immaculate forefinger around the rim of her wine glass.

  “Then what I’ve heard is true?”

  “No.”

  Gerrold grimaced. “You would lie to me anyway, wouldn’t you?”

  I stood up then because I could no longer tolerate his abusive tone. I kept my hand on the needler and put a hand in the center of Gerrold’s chest.

  “Don’t touch me!” Gerrold tried to brush my hand away, but I didn’t let him.

  “Dr. Parker has made clear her wish to be alone, Mr. Gerrold.” I spoke politely. While working with Rath, we had sometimes done close-in bodyguard work on people we had to maintain civility around. At least until the bullets started flying and laser beams started frying air.

  “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.” Gerrold struggled against me, but I moved him back a step, just enough to let him know I could do it.

  Behind him, I saw the four bodyguards start to get up from their table. Kendra and Jonas Salter and Anil Patel, all chimera mercs that did work for John Rath on Earth, closed in on the men, lighting them up with targeting beams to let them know getting involved at this point was less than ideal.

  “Humans aren’t going to get pushed out of this world just because you people can invent bioroids and clones,” Gerrold said loudly. “We were here first, and we’ll be here after you people stop playing God. What do you hope to achieve by bringing the dead back to life to toil on in jobs that real humans should be holding?”

  Mara wasn’t bringing the dead back to life. Her neural channeling programming was just better than anything else currently on the market. But the idea that MirrorMorph, Inc. had found a way to replace living people with bioroids was a favorite conspiracy theory of some of the Human First members.

  I pushed with a little force at that point, striking Gerrold just under the sternum and stealing his breath away. I leaned down and spoke into his ear as he struggled to regain his breath. “Leave. Now. Or I’m going to throw you out. Walking out under your own power will be a lot more dignified.” I popped him under the sternum again, robbing him of the breath he’d just gotten back.

  Wheezing, aware that his bodyguards weren’t there, Gerrold turned and went. He stopped a safe distance away to throw more menacing threats, but he went.

  I turned to Mara. “I apologize.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know. I apologize for insisting that we leave now.” I held out my hand to assist her to her feet.

  For a moment, Mara looked as though she was going to argue, then she took my hand. “It’s a shame we have to leave. The desserts here are really good.”

  “Maybe another time.” Folding her arm under my left arm so I could guide her with my body, I headed for the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Returning from Simon Blake’s memory, I sat in the darkness of the rented room I shared with Hayim. The memory of Mara carried echoes of emotion that felt deeper than I’d experienced so far. I didn’t know whether that was because I thought I might be getting closer to her, or if it was because of all the violence that the day had brought.

  The need to find her grew stronger within me.

  “Easy, partner,” Shelly said. “You’re working the only trail you have available to you right now. Jonas Salter told you that the answer lay with the Chimeras. Find them and you’ll be closer to rescuing her.”

  “Rumor has it that the Chimeras are dead or disbanded.”

  “A rumor didn’t kill me, Drake. A Chimera did.”

  I didn’t point out that the man who had killed her had been an ex-Chimera.

  “Maybe,” Shelly said. “Don’t take anything at face value. Follow your leads. I taught you that.”

  I knew she was right, so I accessed the meetbox I shared with Floyd 2X3A7C and found him waiting there for me.

  * * *

  Floyd looked up as I arrived. It was a purely human behavior. He had the same 360-degree vision that I had. His fingers moved rapidly over his rosary beads.

  “Good evening, Drake,” he greeted.

  “Good evening, Floyd.”

  We stood in the holo of the Jonas Salter crime scene. His crumpled body lay where it had been. I thought of the newest memory I’d had of him, of how he had been there for me right after I’d arrived on Earth to protect Mara Parker. I wondered why I could not remember when he and I had first met, and I felt that I was missing something. John Rath had known Jonas before I had.

  “If you are wondering if I have any news regarding Jonas Salter’s murder, I do not. Detective Blaine and I remain stymied, but we are pursuing leads.”

  “I know you are doing your best. However, I have another name I would like information on.”

  “Of course.”
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  “A Human First representative named Conway Gerrold.”

  “Give me a moment.”

  I walked over to survey Jonas’s body, but I didn’t see anything that stirred memories or gave me an indication of who had killed him.

  Floyd said, “Conway Gerrold was killed by an unknown assailant eleven years ago on March 20.”

  That was a turn I had not expected. I had searched for Gerrold on Mars’s databases, but the man hadn’t been mentioned there. With the lag time between Mars and Earth, I hadn’t wanted to try searching the databases there in case I ended up getting found out.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  The holo scene around us winked out of existence and was replaced by a rooftop scene where a sleek black hopper hovered and waited. A moment later, Conway Gerrold stepped from the building accompanied by the same four bodyguards Simon Blake had seen him with at the restaurant. The date was only nine days after that encounter and that made me suspicious.

  “Gerrold was en route to a meeting with some friends,” Floyd told me.

  “Human First?”

  “Personal friends.” Floyd was quiet a moment. “However, those personal friends were and yet remain Human First members.”

  “I see.”

  In the holo, Gerrold climbed into the hopper. I recognized the New Angeles megapolis around him, the deep canyons of the city inky black in the residential areas of the towers but lit up with luminescent neon colors where the clubs were.

  The hopper had barely taken off when the vehicle suddenly exploded and turned into a fireball. Debris and flaming body parts shot out across the open air to drop into the street below while the largest pieces of the hopper chassis crashed onto the rooftop.

  “What happened?” I asked as I watched fire drones speed out to quench the flames.

  “According to the crime scene analysis, someone planted a bomb aboard Gerrold’s hopper. You do not remember this?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because Simon Blake is listed in the field notes as a person of interest. He was questioned on four separate occasions by detectives regarding a confrontation he’d had with Gerrold nine days before.”

  “I’m aware of the confrontation.”

  “You do not remember planting a bomb aboard Gerrold’s hopper?”

  “No.” I was also bothered by the fact that I didn’t not remember doing that either. Had Simon Blake perceived Conway Gerrold as that much of a threat to Mara Parker?

  “Also interesting is the fact that you were questioned by Detective Shelly Nolan.”

  That was even more unexpected. “May I have a copy of that report?”

  “Of course.” Floyd uploaded the file to the meetbox and I downloaded it to my PAD on Mars. Although the connection was a little risky, I deemed the acquisition of the file worthy of the jeopardy.

  “Thank you for this,” I told Floyd.

  He nodded and his fingers tapped across his rosary like a spider’s legs. “Of course. How goes your investigation on Mars?”

  “I’m trying to find the chimera mercenaries and John Rath now.”

  “Events have gotten dangerous on Mars. The civil unrest is in all the media at this point.”

  “I’m aware of that. The discovery of that hidden weapons plant has become more important as well. Have there been any further developments on the investigation?”

  “Not as yet. I am keeping watch over it as well. When I have news I will let you know.”

  I waved and was startled to discover how natural the gesture seemed. Floyd responded in kind, but I knew that he thought it was strange as well from the way he cocked his head. That too was a human gesture he had picked up that he might not have noticed. Body language was something we were both programmed to emulate, though why we had to do it with each other was not logical. Perhaps it was because both of us were aware we were overstepping the parameters we had been designed for.

  I blanked out of the meetbox before he could ask the questions that I knew he had to have.

  * * *

  Back on Mars, I sat in the dark room and found Shelly standing against the wall where I had left her. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had questioned Simon Blake about the murder of Conway Gerrold?”

  “Why would I have told you? At the time I—and you—didn’t know there was a connection between you and Simon Blake.”

  “What can you tell me about the investigation?”

  Shelly frowned. “That was a long time ago.”

  I realized again that she wasn’t the Shelly I had lost. She was only a shadow I had somehow created to help guide me. She wouldn’t know more about the Gerrold murder investigation until I did.

  I opened the file and began to familiarize myself with the case. I sifted through the crime scene reports and the vid files of the interview. Simon Blake’s interview was the fourth one in the file.

  * * *

  “State your name for the record, please.”

  This time I was not Simon Blake. I stood behind Shelly Nolan, who was on the other side of the transplas table in the featureless interview room. I approached Simon, even laid my hand on his shoulder, but I couldn’t get inside him. I was trapped outside his thoughts and I didn’t know why.

  I avoided an endless logic loop, but only just, choosing to focus instead on the interview.

  Shelly was much younger. Her marriage and her children lay before her. She looked young and innocent. I had seen her face in holos at her house, and in records at the PD, but I had never noticed her in such an intimate way.

  She was slimmer, almost to the point of being underweight for department regs. She looked elegant in her grey suit and her red hair was longer than she had worn it when we had partnered. She’d had her children at that time, her daughter Susan had been only a few months old then, and she’d had less time for herself. Looking at her there, I wondered if she mourned the lack of time for herself when her work and her family consumed so much of her day.

  I didn’t think so. If she had, she’d never mentioned it. I focused on the interview.

  “My name is Simon Blake.” Simon sounded matter-of-fact.

  I watched his eyes and listened to the timbre in his voice and detected no falsehood. But I knew him better than Shelly had at that moment. I knew he was capable of being unreliable in his narrative. He had been trained by John Rath.

  “You’re from Mars?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are your present duties here in New Angeles?”

  “I provide security for MirrorMorph, Inc. That’s all in my file, Detective.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Mr. Blake.”

  “This is redundant questioning.”

  “A lot of police work is. I’m sure the same can be said of the security field. Constantly checking and re-checking perimeters, safety measures, protocol.”

  Simon smiled then and I knew that he approved of Shelly Nolan. I found that satisfactory. “I stand corrected.”

  Shelly waved a hand over the holo projector built into the table. A twenty centimeter image of Gerrold appeared above the table’s surface. “Did you know Conway Gerrold prior to killing him?”

  Simon’s grin widened and his dark eyes sparkled. “Actually that’s two questions, Detective.” He counted them off on his fingers for emphasis. “One, I did not know Conway Gerrold. Two, I did not kill Conway Gerrold.”

  Shelly waved her hand again and a sec vid from the restaurant where Gerrold had approached Mara Parker played, showing Gerrold talking to her. Since we—or rather, Simon and Mara—hadn’t had the white noise generator at the table switched on, the conversation had been recorded.

  When the recording had played through to the point when Simon had offered to throw Gerrold out, Shelly froze the holo with Simon standing in Gerrold’s face. “Did that sound threatening to you? Because it did to me.”

  Simon pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not my part of the conversation. I believe I was being very civil under the circ
umstances.”

  “You were, Mr. Blake. Every centimeter the professional.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I was talking about Gerrold’s part of the discussion. Do you feel that he was threatening Ms. Parker?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Simon smiled and laced his hands behind his head. It was something I had seen John Rath do a number of times when he had talked with Simon during the memories I had of him. Rath used his posture to speak volumes, and Simon was emulating that now.

  “No, I didn’t think Gerrold was threatening Ms. Parker.”

  “How am I supposed to believe you?”

  “Gerrold was still alive when he left the club,” Simon said softly. “If I’d perceived him as a threat, I would have killed him. Or at the very least, I would have crippled him. That’s how I handle threats.”

  “I understand that you also blow them up.” Shelly waved a hand over the projector and a holo of the chimera mercs in action sparkled into view.

  The soldiers in the vid wore combat hardsuits, but the stylized chimera was clearly visible on the scarred chests and backs of the armor. I tried to remember the battle and thought I caught a faint hint of it somewhere in Simon Blake’s memories. We had been contracted to protect a supply shipment to the new colony. The megapolis government had been expecting terrorists to attempt to destroy the shipment. Instead we had been attacked by thieves. That had made defending the shipment easier, but the action had still been bloody and we had lost three good people. In response, the chimera group had killed every last would-be thief with extreme prejudice.

  “This is your unit, correct?” Shelly remained focused on Simon, not on the action taking place on the holo.

  Simon didn’t look at the battle either. I knew he was studying Shelly for weaknesses, measuring her strength. Standing there watching both of them engaged in a battle of wits was uncomfortable.

  “You know it’s my unit, Detective. Otherwise you wouldn’t be showing that to me.”

  Waving her hand over the projector, Shelly stopped the vid again, freezing a hopper in the air just as it started to come apart from a direct hit from a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. The hopper had broken apart and the rocket explosion looked like it was burning a hole in the craft.

 

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