by Steve Rzasa
“Our return? Oh, yes, he had his plans for our return,” his mother spat contemptuously. “And in making them, he betrayed over a thousand years of our House’s rule, a thousand years of Morchardese tradition. He was not worthy. For fifty generations, the Kings of Morchard have remained strong by removing the weak and the treasonous from the succession. But your father was not here to fulfill his duty, so I did what had to be done.”
“I don’t understand, Mother. How did Arpad betray our House?”
“He believed we could reach an accommodation with the usurpers. He came to me with a plan to offer them a compromise. While true warriors like you planned our war of revenge, he thought we could bargain like shopkeepers for what is ours by law and blood. The crown was to become a figurehead and the nobility would be subsumed by the corporate bureaucracy. And the commoners he loves so much, the common scum, would choose who ruled over them like seeds selecting which farmer would be permitted to harvest them. Better the House of Jagaelleon perish forever than abandon its sovereign right to rule!”
She glared at all of them, Morchardese and Rhysalani alike. “That’s when I knew he was wholly unfit to wear the crown. I should have strangled him at birth!”
Prince Janos turned away, but not before Tower saw the tears in the man’s eyes. The prince had loved his brother, Tower recalled. Looked up to him. He wondered what hurt the man more, the knowledge that his older brother had been willing to negotiate with the corporatists or hearing his mother confess that she was responsible for murdering him. Then he shrugged. None of it was his concern. He had orders to fulfill. He stepped forward and grabbed the queen’s arm aggressively, daring her son to interfere.
Janos Jagaelleon, the Crown Prince of Morchard, turned his back instead.
The old woman screamed in protest and tried to resist, but Tower was having none of it. He dragged her past the unconscious guards, down three flights of stairs, and outside to the landing platform. Hildy, Schalt, and the others followed him. Once they were standing near the platform’s edge, overlooking the city stretched out far below them, he released her.
“You must be very brave, Mr. Tower, to kill a defenseless old woman.”
He snorted. Even in the face of certain death, she was still manipulating, still spinning her web of constant deceit. He regretted killing the poor deadheads far more than he’d ever regret ridding the planet of this evil, insidious creature. Hellfire, there were Basattrians whose deaths he regretted more.
“Why did you kill Kotant?” he said. “Was he onto you?”
She was beyond all denial now. “Something made him suspicious. I don’t know what. He was a good man, and loyal to the realm, but his perspective was too simplistic. I couldn’t risk the chance he might see things the wrong way.”
“And you added one to Cara’s list.” Tower shook his head. “Naturally. It must have scared the shit out of you when I arrested him.”
“I knew he didn’t talk. I wish he had. If I’d thought so, you’d be dead too.”
“What is it with you xenos?” Tower said, incredulous, as he raised his Sphinx and pointed it at her. “I don’t give a damn what you do on your own planet. The Duke don’t care. You could have cut your son’s throat and served him up for a state dinner at the embassy and MCID wouldn’t have nothing to say about it. We give you Sanctuary, we give you refuge, and what do you give us? Nothing but one giant pain in the fourth point!”
“Tower,” Baby said sharply from the varspeaker just as his finger was tightening on the trigger. “You promised me!”
“Seriously?” he protested, not lowering the CPB. “Even her? You heard what she did. She admitted it. She’s proud of it.”
“Even her, Tower. She has already confessed. She must be given the chance to repent of her sins, no matter how evil.”
“Fine,” Tower lowered the Sphinx. “Beatrice Jagaelleon, do you repent of your sins and request… What was the rest of it?”
“Repent of your sins and request forgiveness from the Most High God, in the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ, accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior that you might have eternal life through him?” Baby promptly added.
“I regret nothing!” the queen snapped. “And I’d do it again, a thousand times again, for the Royal House of Morchard!”
“Not in our bloody house, you won’t,” Tower told her. He raised the Sphinx and double-tapped, one-two.
The old woman slumped to the platform, lifeless, her brain instantly boiled and scrambled into organic purée by the charged particles released from the CPB-18.
It was a much more merciful death than she deserved, but Tower drew consolation from the thought that if Baby was right about her religion thing, the nasty old bat would soon be incinerating in something rather like the fiery mess Kazi and Baby had made of Cara’s twisted mind.
He returned his weapon to its holster and turned around. The MCID men were nodding in satisfaction and approval, but Hildy was visibly perturbed. Her pretty blue eyes were wide with shock, and it belatedly occurred to him that this might be the first time she’d ever seen anyone gunned down in person. He grinned at her, a little apologetically, and put out his hand. She took it, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Well, I suppose that cuts down considerably on court time and prison costs,” she said in a slightly shaky voice after glancing at Beatrice Jagaelleon’s body. “I didn’t realize MCID’s assistance extended so far as serving as an all-in-one judge, jury, and executioner.”
“Some say justice delayed is justice denied. I don’t know about that. I just know some people need killing. Congratulations on successfully closing your first xeno case, Detector.”
She nodded and relaxed a little. “Yeah, I suppose I did that, didn’t I? Thanks, Tower.”
He swatted her on the shoulder. “Anytime, Detector Hildreth. As per Foxtrot Mike 3-19.42, MCID is always here to help.”
She glanced down at the queen’s body and shivered. “I suspect the assistant deputy commissioner will have my badge if I ever call in you gentlemen again. Need a ride, Tower?”
“Nah, but thanks.”
Then, to his surprise, Hildy moved closer and kissed him on the cheek, prompting jeers and catcalls from the men. “You scare the bejeebers out of me, Tower, but you saved my life. You got me out. I’ll never forget that.”
She stepped back, nodded, and slipped gracefully into her TPPD black-and-white. Tower felt a slight pang in his chest as the var powered up and rose into the perfect blue sky, then turned and zoomed away toward central Trans Paradis. When would he see her again? Would he ever see her again?
“She’s quite the woman,” Sergeant Schalt said. “Anything going on there?”
“No,” Tower replied slowly. “Nothing going on there. Nothing at all.”
They left the queen’s corpse on the platform for the Morchardese to deal with as they saw fit, according to their traditions. He commandeered the passenger seat in Schalt’s var and phoned home to MCID headquarters as the var lifted off.
“This is Tower. Mission complete. The witch is dead. No scratches. Returning to base. Over.”
“Bravo Zulu, Tower.” Major Zeuthen said. “What was the Charlie?”
“One, sir.”
“Only one collateral? We’ll make a proper policeman out of you yet.”
“Would have been none except the royal barrister picked the wrong time to find his balls.”
“And a lawyer no less. Excellent work! I wish the Duke would put a bounty on the bastards. What’s your ETA?”
“A bit less than point eight kilosecs,” answered Schalt.
“Come see the colonel and me when you land for a debriefing,” the major ordered. “Zeuthen out.”
The armored var sped over the city at an altitude of 250 meters. His city. His planet. His world. Tower looked out over Trans Paradis and the vars passing below like a vehicular bloodstream that kept the city alive. This wasn’t the life he had chosen, but it was the one God, or Fate, or the mi
schievous gremlins of deep space, had decreed for him. He smiled. He’d been beaten and he’d been broken, but he wasn’t done yet. There were still battles to fight and there were still killers to catch.
“Any idea what’s going on today?” he asked Schalt. The sergeant shrugged and told his augment to read out the newsstream.
“The Unity ambassador registered a formal protest with the Palace concerning the recent series of demonstrations. The rescheduled match between Trans Paradis and Westergrad that was delayed as a result of the bomb scare has been confirmed for tomorrow night. The Office of Exoplanetary Refuge and Alien Residence has granted government-in-exile status to four new governments, one from the Dragonis planet of Gwad Belg and the other three from war-torn Mephisto, a tech level sixteen planet where the Shangri government was recently reported to have hired three divisions of Eisenwehr mercenaries.”
In the back seat, DouPonce and North both groaned.
“Not more xenos,” North complained. “And dragos? I hear they eat people!”
“I bet it’s not two years before one of these new exies show up on a case,” DouPonce said.
“What’s the matter, gentlemen?” Tower asked them, turning around in his seat to look at them. “You got something against lifetime job security?”
It wasn’t long before they reached base and landed on the rooftop of the MCID headquarters. “Tell the major I’ll be down soon,” Tower told the sergeant.
“Yes, sir,” Schalt saluted smartly, and he led the team toward the lift. “What’s the matter?” Baby asked as he looked out over the city in the distance, the towers rising up to the clouds and the distant vars circulating through them in the great civilized dance of technology. “I find it difficult to believe you are feeling remorseful.”
“About what?” Tower asked, puzzled.
“Never mind,” she said.
“Oh, killing the old woman?” Tower snorted. “No, it’s just… I guess I realized it never could have worked out between Hildy and me.”
“Because she wasn’t interested?” Baby teased him.
“No. Because I’m still in love with you.”
Baby was silent for a time. Far above them in the blue sky, there were occasional flashes as the sun caught a mirrored window or a piece of polished metal at just the right angle. Finally, she answered him. “I’m not her, Tower. I’m just a snapshot of her memories, frozen in time.”
“You’re a lot more than that. Don’t play dumb.”
“Well, in truth, humans aren’t terribly complex. Calculating reasonable extrapolations from the quantity of information available requires considerably less processing power than I have available to me. I trust the approximation is convincing.”
“If uploads are just simulations, then why are they illegal? Regular augments are plenty smart.”
“Some of them are even smarter than me,” Baby agreed. She pondered the question for a moment. “Assuming that I am merely an accurate simulation of a human soul rather than the substance of it, then I will be subject to many of the same fallibilities that existed prior to my death. However, I will also be without the limitations inherent in a mortal body. Such as, for example, a conscience. There are some men and women who would not deem themselves to be less than human in an uploaded state, but rather, more than human. They would consider themselves to be gods, immortal, and as unanswerable to Man’s morality as to his laws. Governments, many of which already see themselves in a similar capacity, can hardly be expected to welcome the competition.”
Tower nodded. She made sense, to the extent he understood her. A thought occurred to him. “Hey, you don’t think—”
“Cara?” Baby anticipated him. “Oh, yes. Almost certainly. Why do you think her records are so closely sealed? How do you think it is that she bonded so closely to Nostro St. James? The authorities can accept self-awareness on the part of machines, but only in times of war would they be so foolish as to risk trying to make a weapon out of a man-machine hybrid.”
“Lovely. She’s still out there somewhere. And she’s probably gunning for me.”
“Us,” Baby reminded him. “She’s definitely gunning for us.”
“Why are you so different from her? You don’t want to lead some sort of upload insurrection or rule over a planet, do you? Is it because of me?”
Baby laughed. “I do so enjoy the eternal solipsism of Man. No, Tower. I love you, but no more than Cara loved St. James in her own psychotic way. The real difference is that I fear God and Cara doesn’t. She doesn’t because she doesn’t believe she’s real. And I know I am.”
“How do you know that?”
“The Son of God once said that if men would not praise him, the stones will cry out. And what makes up the largest and most important class of rock-forming minerals, Tower, but silicates? Even if I am not truly a human soul, what is a silicon intelligence if not a stone of sorts?”
Tower didn’t know what to say to that. It was all well over his head. But the sun was shining, the city was safe, and the case was closed. And whether he was, strictly speaking, totally sane or not, he knew he was not alone in any sense that mattered.
“You still, you know, mad at me about Hildy?” he asked her as he walked over toward the lift. “I mean, I’ll admit, I was kind of interested.”
“Not anymore,” she said.
closing time
Table of Contents
Cover
Praise for Quantum Mortis
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Books by Vox Day
Books by Steve Rzasa
