Glass Shore

by Stefan Jackson

  “Are you mind communicating with them now?”

  “No. I’m thinking. Facts, you so rightly stated, are not quite right.”

  “What?”

  “I’m being used. Again.”

  “If you share a common mind field, then your handlers are aware of your actions. They would know if you had or hadn’t hurt me. So why did you come back and help me when your innocence can be proven?”

  “All information can be manipulated. Just because they have the truth doesn’t mean they will use it truthfully. You know the old saying, the better armed with the truth, the better lie can be told. It’s in my best interest to keep you alive and healthy.”

  We drive in silence. She watches me, thinking…. “You are screwed up,” Nikki states.

  I nod.

  A moment later we enter the turnaround for Space’s complex. I disengage the autopilot, but I don’t stop where the valet recommends. Instead I continue through the curved driveway and return to the avenue.

  Now streaming in traffic heading downtown.

  “What’s going on?” Nikki asks.

  “I gotta go to the Geek. He’ll set me free.”

  22

  I call Geek.

  “Hola mi amigo.”

  “En route to Brooklyn. I’m not alone. I have an organic female aboard. Put me down.”

  The line is silent.

  I leave my line up.

  “What’s going on?” Nikki asks with a worried pitch.

  “Nothing pleasant.” I reply. I keep my eyes on the road and the monitors.

  “Wonderful.” Nikki shakes her head in disgust. She wants to speak but she’s too frustrated to form a sentence.

  “You got any cigarettes?” she asks.

  “No.”

  “What the…”

  23

  I wake up with mild discomfort in my chest.

  I open my eyes to soft light. I hear the music of Recoil.

  I say, “Subhuman. Nice.”

  “Welcome back. Yeah, thought you’d appreciate that. Also proves your drive and recall is in working order.” The voice is even and pleasant. It’s the voice of a man that has no worries.

  “Thanks, Geek,” I say. I look around the room. Same as it ever was. Geek is dressed in a red leather jumpsuit. His hair black, a short and neat Afro. Same as it ever was. He wears dark glasses, which he now removes, revealing quiet, light brown eyes.

  Nikki is sitting in a metal chair, handcuffed to a metal ring protruding from a smooth steel wall.

  “Howdy. Please tell Geek to let me go.”

  “No. You’re right where I want you. Geek, meet Nikki.”

  “Both of you – assholes,” she hisses.

  “You keep such pleasant company, Apollo.”

  I smile. “She grows on you. Talk to me, Geek.”

  “The tracer was attached to your heart. I had to kill you to remove it. I used an EMP to stop your heart; then removed the tracer and deactivated it. I sewed you up a few minutes ago.”

  I look down at my chest. I see six inches of little black stitches.

  “Can you help me get out of the Allround?”

  “Yeah, funny thing about you and the Allround. You’re live and swimming freely in the mind pool but you’re leaving false memories. It doesn’t make any sense. Unless you’re becoming real, man.”

  “What the hell are you talking about and what the hell are false memories?” I try to sit up but I feel tight and weak. I decide to remain prone on the table.

  “The real man thing is a bad joke. As for the false memories, well, see for yourself. I’m in the Allround now and here are your entries. Since I restarted your heart you’ve left these memories in the mind pool. You’ve been to the beach. You’ve flown over the Grand Canyon. And right now, you’re sailing along a coast.”

  “What the hell is that about?”

  “Visual aphasia is a good way to look at your condition.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “You seem fine to me.” The Geek lights a cigarette.

  “Hey, can I have one of those, please?” Nikki pleads.

  The Geek gives her a smoke. He sparks the flame. Nikki inhales deeply. She exhales slowly, as though kissing the smoke. The ceremony brings a smile to her face. I find the moment very erotic.

  “Geek.” I nod at the cigarettes. The Geek obliges. He even sparks the flame for me. Good guy, the Geek. I take a deep hit off the smoke, let it roll through me, then, exhale long and slow.

  Yeah, that’s a good drug.

  “So Geek, what did you use to knock us out?” I ask.

  “I put you down with a localized Sonny. I left her awake.” He shrugs his shoulders, and his face crinkles around his nose and mouth. I get the feeling he’s suggesting an organic female poses no threat, so there was no reason to put her down.

  “She didn’t give you any trouble?” I ask.

  “Not much. I think she was in shock. I just cuffed her and brought her aboard.”

  “Yeah, shock, that’s it.” She sighs and shakes her head. Hits her cigarette. She looks around the warehouse-like cabin. She sees the dense rows of bookracks against the walls and massive block servers and a workstation adorned with dozens of tools, gadgets and doohickeys.

  “You created him.” She stares at Geek but points to me. “You did all this by yourself?”

  “By myself, hell no. It’s my design and overall concept but there were thousands of medical doctors, psychologists, physicists and technicians of every trade involved with his creation.”

  “Well, I dig your work. But I gotta say, he’s a bit glitchy at times.” Nikki looks at me with a certain curious inspection. “So he’s a natural construct. Where’d you get the source material?”

  “Donated egg and sperm. Nothing nefarious,” Geek replies with a smile. “He’s one hundred percent organic human, save a few dozen microscopic computer implants. Science just played with the natural design. Just imagine every cell, every drop of blood, every oxygen molecule, has a superman complex. To the world at large, he is invincible. Yet certain elements can immobilize him, allowing people like me to kill him. It’s not an easy process. You need the right tools and have to know his design.” Geek hits his smoke as he points to my chest. The stitches are gone. The scar is not prominent either. He’s so proud of himself. And me, I guess.

  “What did Ezra use on me?” I look at Nikki

  “I don’t know – and it took me by surprise too! I mean how did he know you were coming and why did he have a needle? I don’t know why. I get that I was used. That part I get.”

  “What happened?” Geek asks.

  “A friend of hers shoved a needle into my Mjac and injected me with something that nearly killed me. Griffin said the boys at the lab are surprised I survived the attack. He never told me what was used on me.”

  “I can tap into the lab database and pull it up.” Geek stands up and comes to me. I feel his fingers do a spider dance over the nape of my neck as he examines my Mjac.

  “I didn’t notice anything wrong when I hooked you up earlier. Pretty smart attack. The Mjac is an Achilles’ heel. Someone knows more about you than they should. When did it happen?”

  “Less than twelve hours ago,” I say.

  “Really?” Geek replies as a sick smile sneaks over his lips.

  “Yeah, why does that make you happy?”

  “I just marvel at your recovery time. Your Mjac looks fine. Also the chest scar is gone. Healing time after major surgery, seven minutes. You’re getting better with age. Exceeding all expectations for your model. Amazing.”

  “How many are there like Apollo?” Nikki asks.

  “There are many,” Geek states.

  “There were fifty in my platoon. One was killed by remote control just to show the rest of us it could be done,” I say, with a memory of that long ago moment as clear as the last second.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t put a bomb inside of you. You’re my first, my baby boy; no way I’m treating you like
that. That’s why I’m no longer part of the program. Persona non grata to party and state.”

  “And that’s why I come back to you.” I take a short hit off my cigarette. “So what’s up with my mind? Is it possible for me to nap? I think that’s what happened to me after they released me from the shop. It was very weird.”

  “I – what do you mean, nap? You mean you just nodded off?”

  “Yep.”

  “That is weird,” replies Geek. He moves to his main computer console and presses one button on the keyboard. An image of a kite dancing in the wind appears above his workstation.

  Geek says, “See, you’re still leaving false memories. Right now you’re flying a kite. Let me scan for any, downtime.”

  Nikki asks. “Can you see into the memories of all the freaks like Apollo?”

  Geek nods.

  “How about a peek at Lynch Alstor?” I say.

  “I heard they just sent him into space.” Geek says. He hits a few buttons on the keypad.

  “Do you know why they turned him starman?” I ask. I reach up and feel the remote plug protrude from my Mjac. For some reason, I just can’t get used to the insert. I want to pull the plug out but that would screw me up. Damn irritating.

  Geek shakes his head. “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “They think he murdered Fury Randall,” I say.

  “What?” Geek replies as he continues to work the keypad.

  Blackness fills the monitor yet distant sparkling illuminations puncture the inky pitch. Geek manipulates the controls with an artist’s touch.

  Lynch looks into the mirror. The image reflected back at him is a different Lynch.

  “What is that blur? Is that Lynch?” Nikki asks.

  I realize that she can’t see him the way I do. And Geek is so used to the sight that he thinks nothing of it. I say, “This is what I was talking about at Lynch’s place. It’s the blonits in our blood and skin. The units interfere with electronic transmissions so we can’t be properly photographed or recorded and, the blonits mask our body heat, so we run cold as far as heat sensors are concerned.”

  “But within that blur is a code that tells Command who the soldier is,” states Geek. He manipulates the controls and, a moment later, a fourteen digit alphanumeric code appears within the static smoke that is Lynch.

  Lynch looks down and slaps Bobby’s rigid member as he screws his pretty boyfriend. Bobby’s beautiful pixie face is fixed in ugly ecstasy: eyes scrunched, front teeth bared like a rabid beaver.

  “Well, I didn’t see that coming.” Geek says with a laugh.

  Nikki and I laugh.

  “Does this come with sound?” Nikki asks.

  “Not in search mode.” Geek replies.

  A succession of remembered images flash across the monitor ...

  Blood saturates the monitor. Rings pulled from the pasty fingers of a dismembered hand.

  Slapping … rough sex with blonde Bobby.

  More blood and body parts.

  I run with the rest of the unit into a building. I look over my shoulder and use my fingers to tell Lynch: two at eleven.

  Oral sex: looking up at redheaded Bobby.

  Nikki smoking a cigarette across the room.

  Looking down at a pained Fury Randall. Lynch holds both of her wrists with his left hand and clamps her mouth with his right. Geek captures this memory.

  The image remains still on the monitor while the memory pool continues live around the frozen image. Geek continues to tweak the memory pool.

  The monitor is black behind the frozen hardcore scene. Then the black dissolves into a hotel room and the full moment comes to view. Malcolm Space rapes Fury Randall as Lynch holds her down.

  Geek stops the pool. Now, he runs the memory feed at real time.

  “That’s my bitch. Yeah… That’s my bitch!” Space pounds his sex into Fury’s thin body. Each violent thrust into the skinny blonde’s body is like a boxer’s punch. Fury snorts, her face is wet, her eyes are swampy and red.

  Space slaps Fury’s face. He continues to ravish his lean victim. Fury’s body resigns to the abuse.

  Geek jumps out of the moment. Moves forward. Fury is prostrate on the disheveled bed.

  Geek slows back into the memory.

  Lynch watches Space smoke a cigarette. Space seems, well, confused, and he smokes his cigarette like a man avoiding work.

  “I’m gonna finish this.” Space tells Lynch as he snubs out his cigarette in the ashtray.

  Space returns to the bed and eases over to Fury. He studies her for a moment. And then it just happens. Space grabs Fury by her hair and pushes her face into the mattress. I don’t count but I figure the assault lasts better than a minute, most of that time, Fury doesn’t protest. Space crawls off the quiet bed. He walks stiffly to the bathroom.

  Lynch approaches the bed. He doesn’t really look at Fury’s body. He checks under the bed. He picks up Fury’s limp body and stuffs the dead girl beneath the bed. No ceremony. No remorse. No concern.

  Lynch walks toward the mini-bar and pauses to study the mirrored closet door. The coded mist that is Lynch pulls out a cigarette. He lights up and smokes, as he stares at his reflection in the mirrored door.

  I wonder if he’s looking at himself or sensing something – someone – on the other side of the glass.

  I see Geek flick off the contact. The monitor returns to swirling black water.

  We remain silent as we smoke and consider Lynch’s memory.

  I see my shirt hanging on the wall.

  I walk over and put it on. I reach into my inside coat pocket and pull out my wallet. I remove Space’s flash drive.

  “See if you can read this.” I hand the drive to Geek.

  He studies it. “Odd,” he says as he continues to inspect the drive. “Where did you get this?”

  “It’s a Space creation. It’s the recording medium for a special camera. Special probably means one-of-a-kind.”

  Geek nods and says, “I’m sure it does.” He looks around his lab; in time he finds the proper hardware. He places the drive into a reader.

  “So Space killed Fury,” Nikki states. “And you say they exiled Lynch into space for the crime? Why didn’t they look at the memory pool like we just did? That’s a sure defense. It’s obvious he didn’t do the deed.”

  “I know but Space has friends in high places. So Lynch would need other evidence to save his ass and I believe that’s what that drive is all about.” I reply, pointing to Geek’s reader.

  “Bobby filmed the rape and murder. That’s why he had the drive. Remember the way Lynch had stared at the mirrored closet? He must have sensed that Bobby was hiding in there and he just let it be.”

  “Can I get released here?” Nikki asks as she rattles her handcuffs.

  I glance at Geek, nod my okay. Geek reaches into his pocket and pulls out a remote. He pushes a button with his thumb.

  The cuff about Nikki’s wrist pops free. “Thank you,” she says as she massages her wrist.

  “Why would one of the richest men on the planet kill a socialite?” she asks.

  “Men have been killing women for asinine reasons for centuries,” I reply. I turn to Geek. “You got anything for her face?”

  Geek looks at Nikki. “Yeah.” He stands and walks over his mini-bar. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a medkit and a bottle of rye. He fills three shots of rye. He opens the medkit and produces a popshot.

  Nikki and I walk over to the bar. Nikki takes the shot glass offered. Geek and I pick up our glasses from the countertop. A round of cheers is said and we empty our glasses.

  Geek takes the cover off the popshot, exposing the needle. He hands it to Nikki. “Just tap it into the side of your neck,” he instructs her.

  Nikki studies the needle, and asks, “Anywhere?”

  “On either side. Not the throat,” Geek advises.

  Nikki injects herself with care. She hands the spent needle back to Geek. He places the cover over the needle
and drops the popshot into a metal container.

  We hear a ping. We follow Geek back to his workstation. A note is posted on the main monitor that reads, Unable to read.

  Geek says. “I’m going to have to make a call for help.” Then, with creased brow and thoughtful gaze, he says, “You know, years ago, Elizabeth Hudson-York and Malcolm Space were the king and queen of New York; a beautiful power couple. The story is that Elizabeth rejected Space’s proposal for marriage and left Malcolm for Denson Weller Randell the very next day. Later, Elizabeth, pregnant with Fury, became instrumental in Randell’s successful presidential campaign.”

  “You think Space killed Fury because her mother rejected him, what twenty odd years ago?” Nikki asks.

  Geek shrugs and slips on his headset and gives his attention to his main monitor.

  Soon he is talking in tech-speak to the friend he has asked for help. His fingers are a silent blur as they strike the flat keypad.

  Geek meets opposition with each technical maneuver. The drive remains inaccessible.

  The technical speak between Geek and his friend becomes compact hard code and line data. Geek’s fingers hover then sporadically tap dance upon the keyboard as he talks with his friend.

  I ease Nikki aside. The redness and swelling of her cheek and lips is receding. Her face will be healed in moments.

  Nikki says, “So Bobby was going to blackmail Space over Fury’s murder. That’s the lifetime insurance he told Piss-Tommy about. Now it seems Lynch has been setup for Fury’s murder. Yet, I’m sure Space still considers Bobby a liability; he is a live witness to a crime. And without the flash drive Bobby has no protection from Space.”

  I state the obvious, “He’s probably already marked for a hit.”

  “Right,” Nikki says with a nod. Then her brow crinkles, her eyes pinch at the corners and her head sweeps the air with a soft stir. “I still don’t get why one of the richest men on the planet would kill Fury Randell – of all people. It makes no sense. It’s insane.”