Memory Blank

by John Stith

  After one last check, he tentatively pushed the plug into the wall socket. An all but inaudible whine sprang up from inside the desk. Satisfied the sound was normal, Cal pushed the desk back into place.

  Everything seemed okay at the keyboard. There were no messages waiting. Cal sat before the desk a moment longer, trying to recall what his job required him to be doing, but it was useless. Finally he picked up the shopping bag and selected one of the listening devices.

  Making sure no one outside his window was looking in, he ran his fingers around the window frame. The top seemed ideally suited and out of sight. He placed the pickup down softly so the adhesive wouldn’t set.

  “You’re bugging your own office?” asked Vincent.

  “Bugging?”

  “Monitoring.”

  “Right. After this little incident, I’d like to know when anyone else comes in here. Bugging?”

  “The early models of microphones and transmitters had sections of wire sticking out. Maybe for antennas. They looked almost like insects. You’ve got a call coming in. Michelle Garney.”

  “Thanks. Answer it.” An instant later there was a new sound, as though Cal’s wrist were next to a small opening between his office and a room next door. He could hear light breathing and, much more faintly, an assorted ambience that came from the tiny reflected sounds in the other room. “Hello,” he said.

  “Your pictures are ready,” Michelle said.

  “Terrific. I’ll be over shortly. You’ll be there for a while?”

  “No doubt about it.”

  Cal thanked her and prepared to leave, wondering briefly what his boss must be thinking of Cal’s recent attendance record. He’d get his boss’s reaction at the same time he gave him an excuse for his recent behavior.

  Tom Horvath’s office was in the Daedalus building, so Cal used the desk screen and turned on the video.

  “Hello, Cal,” said the smiling stranger. “I haven’t seen much of you lately.” The man gave no outward sign of being surprised that Cal was alive. He seemed genuinely happy that Cal had called. Tom looked about five years older than Cal. His dark, curly hair was cut short and neat, with long sideburns. Bushy eyebrows framed warm eyes.

  “Well, I’m afraid you won’t see too much more of me today, either. I’m not feeling very well, so I’m going to take the rest of the day off.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. I hope you feel better. And don’t worry about the office. All the reports I get say the system is hanging together perfectly. You really did your homework on this one too. Say hi to Nikki. Oh, before I forget. I appreciate the cutting you left. I’ll be more careful this time. And I’ll bring you back a new plant to say thanks.”

  Cal thanked him in return and hung up, left with the strong impression that Tom was exactly what he had seemed to be: a concerned ally. Cal felt guilty telling the man he was sick, but in truth he didn’t feel too well. Like finding part of a worm in an apple, learning about a foiled murder attempt was only half good news.

  He had only one more thing to do before he left. He took a repeater from his shopping bag and stuck it to the back of the desk. In a normal speaking voice, he said, “Vincent, can you hear me from the transmitter?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  Cal picked up his shopping bag. It was time to go to Galentine’s.

  On the way down the hall, following an impulse, he said hi to Leroy. Leroy seemed calm as he returned the greeting, but he didn’t invite Cal in or try to start a conversation. Maybe it wasn’t the behavior of a murderer, but it did seem cold after the invitation earlier. It could be as simple as the fact that now the test was over, Leroy had no need to coddle someone who had the authority to demand a retest if all wasn’t right.

  Galentine’s was busier than Cal had guessed it would be in mid-afternoon, but it was calmer than it had been last night. Cal bought another drink he didn’t need from a different bartender, one who was as reticent as his evening counterpart.

  The private booth Tolbor had occupied was fortunately empty, so Cal casually wandered in and sat. After a few minutes with no interruptions, he impatiently pulled another transmitter from his shopping bag and pushed it against the bottom of the table, where it stuck tightly.

  Minutes later the repeater lay concealed in the men’s room, and Cal was on his way to the news center.

  Michelle was in her office when Cal arrived. She closed the door behind him. “I’ve got forty-two possibilities.” She motioned him toward the desk screen.

  Cal sat down at the desk and looked at the first image. The man matched the general description, but, without knowing exactly why, Cal was sure he wasn’t the man he was looking for.

  “You okay?” asked Michelle.

  “Huh?”

  “Are you all right? You seem jittery. When you came in, you looked behind you like there might be someone following you.”

  “Maybe I am jittery. I found a lethal booby trap in my office an hour ago.” Cal explained about the rewiring.

  “Now that I think about it,” he continued, “I guess there’s something else that’s bothering me now. Maybe I didn’t really think about it until I found the wire, but I can’t ignore it any longer.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Someone is trying to kill me. By asking you to help, I’m exposing you to the same risk. I’ll look at the pictures you got and take some names. I really do appreciate what you’ve done so far, Michelle, and I’ll still—”

  “Shut up!”

  The loudness of Michelle’s outburst seemed to startle her as much as it did Cal. She took a couple of deep breaths in an obvious effort to calm down, and said, with what had to be admirable restraint, “That’s the very last time I want to hear you talk like that. I volunteered to help, knowing what had already happened. This is more important than some damned story. So I’m in it, and I’ll stay in it. Is that perfectly clear?”

  Cal studied her for a moment, seeing that her breath still came heavily. “Like I was saying,” he resumed patiently, noticing her eyes begin to narrow. “I’d really like to get on with looking at these pictures if you’ll let me.”

  Michelle grinned broadly, with obvious relief. “Okay. Hit this button when you’re ready for the next one.”

  Cal reached to do so, then paused. “Michelle, I’ll try not to overdo this, but thanks.”

  She simply nodded.

  The next two faces were discards also, but Cal paused at the one after them. “I don’t know,” he said. “The first ones I could almost certainly say weren’t the guy, but this one I just don’t know about.”

  “Use this button here. We’ll come back to anyone who’s questionable.”

  The balance of the images fit in the same two categories: rejects and don’t knows. No picture jumped out at him as being the person. “So what do we have?” he asked finally.

  Michelle tapped a few keys before she said, “You identified five candidates.” She touched a few more keys, and the screen displayed the five choices, all reduced in size to fit.

  “If only I had paid more attention.” Cal looked at the images. “It could be any one of them or none of them. I just can’t tell.”

  “Let’s look at their files. Maybe if one has been in the hospital for two years, we can rule him out.”

  They were able to eliminate two of the five. One was halfway through with a six-month stint on board an exploratory spacecraft. The other was on Luna.

  “Let me transfer the information on the other three to my wristcomp,” said Cal. “Listen up, Vincent.”

  “I’m warning you,” said Vincent. “I’ve got so much information piling up in here, I’m going to explode soon.”

  Michelle raised an eyebrow.

  “Call it a personality quirk,” Cal said.

  “Yours or its?” she asked.

  “If he gets too wild, I can always reprogram him,” said Cal, not answering her question.

  “You and what other ten guys?” Vincent asked.
>
  “Relax,” said Cal. “You’re ready to send?” He looked at Michelle.

  She suppressed a smile and touched more keys on her console.

  “Okay,” Vincent said. “They’re all here.”

  “I guess that does it for now.”

  “You’re not getting out that easily,” Michelle said, leaning forward in her chair. “You heard what I said earlier. That extends to just going away with no new requests for information.”

  “Okay. You’re still looking for data on Domingo?”

  “Right.”

  “Is there any more information available on these three guys than what I already have?”

  “I can try to find out if any of them have had run-ins with the police.”

  “Great. That should do it.” He looked at Michelle, who now sat, tapping her fingernails on the desk, looking sternly at him. “Well, there is one more little thing. I’ve put a pickup in the bar where Tolbor and a couple of friends usually meet. And while they’re there, I plan to put another in Tolbor’s apartment.”

  “My, you are full of surprises. How big are they?”

  Cal showed her the remaining pair from his bag.

  “That one is all you’ve got left? Give me the model number.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll be in Tolbor’s office tomorrow. He’s big news. Vittoria leaves in three days now.”

  “So you’re—” Cal began.

  “Exactly.”

  “I don’t suppose I could—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Cal gave her the model number. “I wonder if my wife is going to be this stubborn.”

  “You mean about wanting to help?”

  “Right.”

  “Why shouldn’t she be?”

  “Well, for one thing, she wants a divorce.”

  Michelle was silent for a moment. “I suppose you just found that out, too?”

  “Right again. I thought bad things were supposed to be limited to threes.”

  “I take it you don’t want a divorce.” Michelle seemed unhappy, but Cal couldn’t tell if it was because she empathized with Cal, or if she saw in him more than just a friend.

  “It’s hard to explain rationally, since I have only a few days of current memories to go on, but I love her. I’m not saying it’s a product of these last three days. The blanking didn’t wipe feelings so much as actual events.”

  “You don’t have to tell her everything. That way she can make her mind up without feeling forced into helping.”

  “That’s tempting. But I think that’s part of the problem. Whatever I’ve been doing lately has caused me to keep a lot of information bottled up. I think maybe that’s one reason why the barriers started. Whatever I do now, I have to be open with her.”

  “Even if the truth drives her away?”

  “It’s a risk I have to take. Thanks again for your help, Michelle.” Cal rose to leave.

  “Where are you going now?”

  “Two of these guys live in Machu Picchu. I’ve got time enough to visit one of them before I go back to Tolbor’s place.”

  “Maybe you should let me know before you do anything critical, so I can call the police if you disappear.”

  “Good idea. I’ll give you a call.”

  When Cal glanced back on the way out, she was watching him, looking concerned.

  The first man on Cal’s list lived in the middle of the south edge of Machu Picchu. The houses thinned out as they rose to the green hillside where Cal had awakened. When Cal was within sight of his destination, a house that was almost all windows and with a deck out front, he called Michelle and gave her the name of the occupant.

  “Vincent,” Cal said. “Can you turn on your magnification and show me what you can see from here—in that house?” Cal turned Vincent so he had a clear view.

  Vincent’s screen showed nothing at first, but, as he scanned the portions of the interior visible from where Cal stood, someone seated with his back to Cal showed in the image.

  “I can’t tell from this view,” Cal said, and began to approach the house. He was still trying to think of the right excuse for knocking on someone’s door when he got there.

  There was just silence after his initial knock, but then the door slid open. In the doorway was a dark-haired man in his mid-twenties, in a wheelchair.

  Cal suddenly felt tired. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, “but my dog ran away. Have you seen one around? Miniature collie, big white spot to the left of her nose?”

  The man in the wheelchair politely denied seeing such a dog, so Cal thanked him and left.

  “Michelle?” Cal said when his call to her connected. “False alarm. He’s in a wheelchair.”

  “Maybe he thought you might check up?”

  “Maybe the real guy would, but this wasn’t him. I don’t know exactly what features are different, but it’s not the same guy.”

  “Cal,” interrupted Vincent. “You wanted to know when there was activity on your bugs.”

  “Bugs?” said Michelle.

  “The pickups. I’ll tell you about it later. Vincent, would you record everything you hear? And in the meantime, why don’t you let us hear the first couple of minutes?”

  “You’re going to have to call a collection outfit to get rid of all the excess data when you’re finished, but okay. This is coming from Galentine’s.”

  The sounds of a conversation started from Vincent’s speaker, interrupted once by a deep thudding sound. “I shouldn’t have put it on the table,” Cal told himself, and began walking.

  After a moment Cal was able to identify one voice as Tolbor’s. That was fortunate. He had been worried that they might have picked another booth, or not gone there tonight.

  “I used to be able to sway you,” said the voice Cal had identified as Tolbor’s. “Why won’t you let me convince you to join us on the Vittoria? It’s going to be an exciting time.”

  “You used to know when to quit,” said an unidentified voice, using a laugh to take the edge off the comment. “I like it fine right here. Maybe I’m getting too sentimental, but I’m happy here. It’s home now, and we’ve not been here all that long.”

  A third voice made a murmur of assent.

  “Vincent, turn it off for now,” said Cal.

  “They didn’t sound exactly like coconspirators,” observed Michelle.

  “I’d have to agree. Maybe they aren’t. In any event, I’ve got to get to Tolbor’s before they finish.”

  “Watch yourself,” she said.

  After Michelle hung up, Cal said, “Vincent, would you keep monitoring their conversation? Tell me if they mention Sodom and Gomorrah or anything you feel ties into things that don’t sound quite legal.”

  “You got it.”

  The conversation at Galentine’s was still underway when Cal reached Tolbor’s building. His apartment door looked just the way Cal had left it. But this time when Cal tried to slide it sideways with pressure from his fingertips, it moved with little effort. Cal went inside quickly and slid the door shut.

  The interior was luxurious. There was real wood furniture, an expensive sound system along with a color holo recorder, and what looked like real glass tabletops.

  “They’re still talking, right, Vincent?” Cal asked, looking around for a good place to hide the pickup.

  “No change.”

  Tolbor’s desk computer was next to a curtained window. Surely that would be the most likely location of any conversations that would interest Cal. Remembering the extraneous noises that came from having the transmitter at Galentine’s under the table, Cal placed this one under the molding that ran around the window and pressed it into place.

  The repeater, he placed on the rear side of one of the desk legs.

  “Okay, Vincent. Listen to this one for just a minute. Testing, one, two, three, four.”

  “Perfect.”

  Cal started for the door, but changed his mind and halted. He made a token attempt to access Tolbor’s c
omputer, which didn’t respond to Cal’s thumb. A quick tour of the man’s apartment told Cal that Tolbor was extremely fastidious. Not one item seemed to be out of its place.

  The apartment also seemed to contain fewer belongings than Cal had expected until he realized that within a few days the Vittoria would be leaving, with Tolbor on it. Probably the rest of his things were already on board in other quarters.

  Tolbor’s wall held only two pictures. Side by side hung the Earth and Daedalus. Cal was surprised to find no pictures of people and decided that, if Tolbor had any, they must already be aboard the Vittoria.

  In Tolbor’s desk drawer lay a few supplies in orderly bins, but a page of paper torn from a small notebook caught Cal’s attention. He picked it up, trying to avoid leaving fingerprints. The note was not at all what he had expected.

  “Maybe I’m not on the right track, Vincent,” he said.

  “Because of the note?”

  “Right. It’s a list of names, and I’m on it. But it doesn’t look like an execution order. It’s a list of people to receive commendations for getting the Vittoria operational.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Cal began a search of Tolbor’s bedroom, but still had found nothing of interest when a chime sounded. His heart accelerated. He frantically looked for a hiding spot.

  CHAPTER 11

  Homicide

  Cal held his breath, seeing no good place to hide. The chime sounded again, and he realized that it was the phone, not the door. It rang six more times, echoing in Tolbor’s apartment, before the caller gave up. So no one would be waiting outside for Tolbor to return.

  Just as Cal began to relax, Vincent warned him that the conversation at Galentine’s was breaking up.

  He was two blocks away from Tolbor’s apartment before he asked Vincent what else they had talked about in the bar.

  “Nothing that sounded suspicious. They never mentioned murder or Sodom and Gomorrah. I can play it back for you or print a transcript once we get back.”

  “When we get back is soon enough.”

  There were lights on in his house when he arrived. Nikki was sitting at the table in the kitchen when Cal entered the house.