by Neil Hunter
Gritting his teeth against the buffeting wind, Cade aimed the SPAS. He triggered two shots, blasting the 12-gauge steel shot into the Buick’s front tire. The rubber blew with a harsh sound, dropping the car onto its steel rim. A long tail of bright sparks flew up from the wheel. The Buick slipped away, careering back and forth across the lanes as the driver fought the heavy steering. It struck the crash barrier, bounced off and spun. Without warning, it rolled, becoming an out-of-control mass of tangled metal, hurtling along the highway, shedding bits of itself and its occupants.
The Chevy had used the time to edge its way alongside. Driving one-handed, Janek pulled out his auto pistol. He triggered a rapid trio of shots into the pursuit car’s passenger compartment, taking out the windows and sending hollow point slugs into the driver’s body and head. The car slewed off course, striking the central barrier, and ground to a shuddering halt.
Janek brought them to a tire-burning stop, kicking open his door and exiting a fraction of a second after Cade.
Gunmen were erupting from the Chevy, their weapons up and firing.
Cade took one out with the SPAS, the force of the blast lifting the man off his feet and dumping him flat on his back, his chest a mass of pulsing red.
Ignoring the slugs chewing the concrete around him, Janek leveled his auto pistol, aiming with deliberate precision before loosing off two shots that almost took his target’s head clean off. The man went down hard, legs still kicking as he sprawled on the concrete.
The remaining gunman stood his ground with stoic indifference. Something about his manner told Cade he was a cyborg. The Justice Marshal turned the full fury of the SPAS on the cyborg. His initial volley had little effect. The shot took away the robot’s clothing and artificial skin, exposing the titanium-steel flexi-coat beneath. The cyborg rocked back on his heels but remained standing.
He raised the sub gun he carried and tracked in on Cade.
Janek took three long, agile steps. His left hand hit Cade between his shoulders, knocking him face down on the ground.
The auto pistol in Janek’s right hand was already lifting, lining up on the rogue cyborg’s head. Almost without pause Janek triggered his weapon. The powerful slugs drilled in through the cyborg’s eyes, coring deep into the electronic brain. The cyborg reacted instantly, losing all control of his actions and speech patterns. Spewing unintelligible sounds from his mouth, he ran back and forth across the road, arms and legs pumping frantically. Finally he ran into the crash barrier and hit the ground with a solid thump. His voice died to a soft whine, and he ceased moving.
Moving across to the cyborg, Janek stared down at the totaled machine.
When he became aware of Cade standing in front of him he glanced up. ‘Hell of a thing to see,’ he said. ‘I’ve never witnessed a cybo die before.’
Cade knelt beside the body. He pulled open the jacket, feeling in the pocket for any ID. He withdrew a badge that showed the cyborg to be Arnold Miles of the UCS. ‘What do you know,’ he muttered.
‘Interesting,’ Janek said when Cade tossed the badge to him. ‘I suppose one of those others will be Feldstet.’
Cade stood up. He caught the sound of approaching sirens. The police cruisers were on the way.
‘Somebody is going to a lot of trouble to keep us from asking questions,’ Cade said. ‘I’d like to know who and why.’
‘Where do you want to start?’
‘Let’s get the formalities over with here,’ Cade said. ‘In the morning we check out the dead policemen’s backgrounds. See what we can find out about them.’
Chapter Three
The apartment Cade shared with Janek was on the ninth floor of a thirty-year-old block on the West Side. On a good day Cade was able to see Central Park. That was when the smog decided to stay away.
Air pollution still hadn’t been defeated, and the city had bad days and worse days. That and the rain, and the sweltering summer heat, made living in New York less of an experience and more of a trauma.
Swinging the Ford off the street, Janek wheeled it down the ramp that led to the basement garage. He took the car to the far side of the dimly lit parking area, braking neatly inches from the scuffed concrete wall.
Cade left him to lock the car. He had the SPAS tucked under his arm. It was not a wise move to leave weapons in parked vehicles. There were a lot of people in need of guns in New York.
Anyone who picked up a SPAS would have something he could make a good trade with.
Hitting the elevator button, Cade waited for the car to sink to the basement level. He stayed to one side of the doors, not wanting to present himself as an easy target in case someone came out shooting. It wasn’t paranoia. Just simple day-to-day survival thinking.
The elevator doors slid open with a tired hiss. Cade stepped into the empty car, Janek coming up behind him. The cybo leaned across and thumbed the button for their floor. The car jerked, then began to rise. The metal walls of the car were dented and covered in multicolored graffiti.
Janek scanned the elaborate decorations, frowning and shaking his head with disapproval.
‘I wish I could catch some of these so-called artists at work,’ he said.
‘So you could arrest them?’ Cade asked.
‘So I could show them how to spell,’ the cyborg answered heatedly, stabbing a finger at the offending words. ‘Some of these creeps are real dunces.’
‘Your attitude problem is getting worse,’ Cade remarked with glee, pleased to see something getting a rise out of the usually calm Janek.
‘Yeah?’ Janek looked calm again and gave his lopsided shrug. ‘So sue me.’
They stepped from the car on their floor and walked the corridor to the door of the apartment. Cade unlocked the door. He’d had the fancy ID-scanner lock removed because the damn thing kept refusing to admit him. Now he had a solid deadlock mechanism that would have defeated any of the local burglars. Armed with their computer-scan machines, they were left high and dry when confronted with an old-fashioned lock.
The apartment lights came on when Cade entered. He placed the SPAS in the closet just inside the door. Janek locked the door behind him.
‘I suppose you want coffee?’ he asked as he moved toward the kitchen.
‘Only if it doesn’t interfere with your social arrangements,’ Cade said.
He checked the vid-phone answering machine. Apart from the usual junk calls from various consumer agencies peddling everything from the latest-model cars to explicit offers from massage parlors, the only one that interested him was a short call from Kate Bannion.
Her face smiled at him from the screen, green eyes flashing with the sparkle that always left Cade with a knot in his stomach. Her rich red hair was tied up, drawing it back from her perfect oval face, with its high, sculptured cheeks and wide, sensuous mouth. Cade was always surprised at his reaction to her image. No matter how many times he saw her, he was left with the feeling he’d just been privileged to view something very special.
In truth she was special to him. Cade had only known a few women intimately in his life. Since he’d met Kate, he realized he didn’t need to know any others. Their relationship was both tender and tempestuous. He was stubborn and she was strong willed. She also had a sharp, inquisitive intellect that made her a match for any man. She used that keen brain in her job. Often too well, landing herself in enough trouble to keep Cade on the streets looking after her.
‘Hi, T.J.,’ she said. ‘I won’t be around for a few days. I’m taking off on a story. I have an interesting lead, and my source tells me this could be big. But I have to go undercover, so I’m dropping out of sight for a while. Just one more thing. If you spot me, don’t let on. Okay? I’ll make it up to you later. Promise.’
Her image faded, followed by the message text that told him the call had been sent three days ago.
‘That sounds like Kate’s up to something risky. Don’t you think, T.J.?’
Cade jumped and turned to glare at Janek, who was pee
ring over his shoulder.
‘How many times do I have to tell you? Quit creeping up behind me like a damn house-droid.’
‘You know how to hurt a person’s feelings,’ Janek said petulantly. ‘Do I look like one of those dusters on legs?’
’It could be arranged,’ Cade threatened.
‘Here’s your coffee,’ Janek said icily. He banged the mug down and stalked across the room. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Yeah,’ Cade muttered. He picked up the mug. ‘Hey, no staying up all night looking at those porn droid magazines.’
The door closed with hard finality.
Cade crossed the living room and slumped on the couch. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. He stared at the moving images on the screen. It was some old movie from the late 1990s.
He realized he was watching the all-night movie channel. Idly he flicked through the stations, pausing when the screen showed a close-up of a pretty blond young woman writhing and moaning. He had stopped on one of the hard-porn satellite channels beamed in from Los Angeles, where the ever-powerful entertainment industry churned out its endless, colorful images.
The Hollywood lobby, with its tenacious grip on local politics, had pushed through legislation five years back allowing it to transmit hard-core porn via the circling satellites. Even Washington Central had caved in. There was little point in making waves. Anything that might satisfy the nation’s restless inhabitants, taking their minds off the coast-to-coast problems of twenty-first-century America, was welcome.
The blonde was acting out a sexual fantasy that left nothing to the imagination, but Cade wasn’t interested. Kate Bannion was in the forefront of his thoughts. He flicked off the TV, then crossed to the window and stared out into the night. The darkness was pierced by many lights and interrupted at regular intervals by the drifting shapes of floating advertising drones. The silent craft, aglow with pulsing patterns of light and moving images, were a persistent and relentless homage to the consumer society that was still the driving force in the nation’s economy.
Cade didn’t see the neon messages. He was still emotionally occupied with Kate’s call. He couldn’t figure out why, but his instincts were telling him she could be mixed up in something he wouldn’t like.
Maybe it had been her reluctance to give him any details, the mystery she surrounded her vanishing act with. The thought tugged at Cade’s patience until he turned sharply from the window.
He swore softly, but his exclamation merely compounded his frustration.
‘You’re worried about Kate, too?’
Janek was standing in the middle of the room. His hands were thrust deep in the pockets of his pants. At any other time Cade would have found the cyborg’s stance amusing. Right now he was too concerned to even comment.
‘She’s up to something that could get her into a whole world of trouble.’
Janek absorbed the expression, filing it away for future exploration.
‘There should be someone at the newspaper office who knows what she’s doing,’ he suggested.
Cade nodded. ‘I’ll drop by there in the morning while you go and make some more inquiries about Feldstet and Miles. See if you can find anything on Connor. And try to dig up Bernie Stenner.’
‘Literally?’ Janek asked.
‘What?’
‘T.J., I’m sure Stenner is dead. Digging him up could be messy.’
‘One day I’m going to find out just what they missed out when they put you together at Cybo Tech.’
Janek didn’t answer, but Cade could have sworn the cyborg had a smile curling the corners of his mouth when he walked off.
The morning was thick and muggy. Dense clouds were forming off to the east, threatening rain for later in the day.
Cade paid the driver of the hover cab and stepped down to the landing pad that was situated on the upper-level mall of the New York Century communications building. The New York Century Tower rose ninety-five stories above Forty-second Street, close to the spot where the original New York Times building had been constructed back in 1904. The current tower housed newspaper and television offices, with vast studios and production facilities.
Crossing the concourse, Cade entered the covered ramp leading to the entrance.
He ignored the hurrying crowd of employees as they made their way inside.
At the high doors he was stopped by a security droid. The robot had piercing eyes and a mesh voice box. Its gleaming chro-metal body blocked Cade’s path.
‘ID, please.’ The voice was basic and had a strong metallic twang.
Cade held up his badge so the droid could scan it. After a few seconds it stepped aside.
Cade went inside the building. The lobby was wide and airy. Soft music played in the background. He crossed to the information desk, where he was confronted by a cyborg receptionist. Cade had no problem recognizing a cyborg by now. Partnering Janek for so long had left him with an unerring instinct for picking them out of a crowd.
‘May I help you, sir,’ the receptionist asked. She was attractive, with the kind of figure that couldn’t be missed.
Cade showed his badge again, deciding that he might as well use his official clout to get him where he wanted to be.
‘What can we do for you, Marshal Cade?’
‘Kate Bannion works out of this building. I need some information about her.’
The receptionist nodded. ‘We have received word that she’s on an assignment at the moment, Marshal, and can’t be reached.’
‘That’s why I’m here. I need to talk with her immediate superior. Right now.’
She picked up a vid-phone and punched in a number. When it connected, she spoke quickly but precisely. Leaning across the desk, Cade picked up the image of the man she was talking to and recognized him as Jerry Konsaki. He had met the man on a couple of occasions.
‘I can find my way to Jerry’s office,’ Cade said to the receptionist.
He made his way to the bank of elevators and stepped inside one. The skinny young man who operated the elevator glanced at Cade’s badge and smiled nervously.
‘You know Jerry Konsaki’s floor?’ Cade asked. The man nodded. ‘Take me there.’
The elevator rose like a shuttle off the launching pad. Cade stepped out at the end of the journey, convinced he’d lost an inch in height. The elevator operator pointed along the shiny corridor.
‘Sixth door along,’ he said.
Cade knocked on the door, but he didn’t stand on ceremony. He went in right away.
Konsaki looked up with surprise, but when he saw who the visitor was he got up from behind his cluttered desk. He may have been installed in a building housing. the latest technology, but his office resembled a paper-reclamation facility.
‘Good to see you, T.J.,’ he said, reaching out to take Cade’s hand.
‘Jerry, I have to find out where Kate is. She could be in trouble.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I got a message from her saying she’s dropping out of sight on some story.’
‘That’s right. You know Kate. She’s never happy unless her assignments are the tough ones.’
‘Well, I have a gut feeling that this time she might have gone too far.’
Konsaki frowned. He ran a lean, brown hand through his thinning hair. ‘I have to admit I’ve been spinning the worry beads myself since she left.’ He glanced at Cade. ‘She tell you what she was researching?’
Cade shook his head.
‘She picked up a rumor about Darksiders going missing. Came to me all excited about it. Made me promise not to tell anyone until she’d had a chance to dig up some hard information... ‘
Konsaki caught the look that crossed Cade’s face.
‘You got something on this, T.J.?’
‘A sniff is all. But the way things have been going, maybe it’s more than just a rumor.’
Gloomily Konsaki said, ‘And I let her go in by herself.’
‘Jerry
, did she tell you who gave her the info?’
Konsaki’s face betrayed his lack of knowledge. ‘Only thing I can tell you is she mentioned something about the old Link Tunnel.’
Cade reached for the vid-phone. As he punched in the number, he hoped Janek had completed his digging and was back at the car.
Chapter Four
Feldstet and Miles had been hanging out in a second-floor apartment in a crumbling building, situated off Third Avenue in East Harlem. The area, once the domain of New York’s Hispanic population, who had christened it Spanish Harlem, or the Barrio, had undergone many changes. It still contained a mix of races. Massive financial and business infusions had attempted to change the grim facade of East Harlem but had failed to eradicate the hard core. The building Janek visited stood on the fringe of old East Harlem, not quite falling apart but beginning to sag around the edges.
He had parked the Ford and made his way inside. The apartment was still under police security. Janek flashed his badge, and the uniformed KC android patrolman opened the door for him.
Janek was out of the apartment within thirty minutes, confident it held nothing of interest to him. Apart from the expected, Janek failed to find anything to connect the UCS officers with any other organization or individual.
He stopped to ask the KC if there had been any visitors apart from the official police team.
‘No, sir,’ the patrolman answered. ‘I’ve been here all the time. No callers at all.’
Janek turned to leave.
As he did, he caught a flicker of movement at the far end of the corridor.
It was caused by the curtain fluttering at the open window that allowed access to the fire escape.
‘Have you seen anyone in the corridor since I went into the apartment?’
‘No one.’
Janek reached under his jacket for his handgun.
The window had been closed on his arrival. He’d scanned the corridor in both directions, and the window had been closed.
