‘Danny!’ Michael’s voice was cautious, but friendly as well. Too friendly. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘It’s good to see you too,’ I said, automatically and found, to my horror, that part of me meant it. Michael had betrayed us, but I still missed him. He and Mel and the rest of the Forest—and my work—had been the heart of my life. Only Michael was left. That was all it was, of course. All it could ever be…
‘You’re looking well,’ he said, as though we were in the habit of chatting every few months. The friendliness was ringing warning bells now. ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’
Making love with Neil, I thought. Learning about the real world instead of playing with the vast but simple images of Virtual. What are you after Michael, I thought, that makes you so polite?
‘Designing a beach for Faith Hope and Charity,’ I said. ‘RealWorld mostly, not Virtual. I’m getting used to RealWorld now.’
‘Your work was always stunning, Danny.’
Now I knew he wanted something. Michael had never complimented my work before.
‘What about you? Work going well? Not worried that a call to your Proclaimed ex-lover will lose you your next promotion?’
‘I’ll take the risk.’ He looked at me evenly.
‘Really? It must be important.’
For a moment—a pulse-stopping moment—I thought he was going to say it was worth any risk just to see me again. Not that I wanted him to, I told myself. I just wanted a sign that he couldn’t forget either. I wanted him to suffer, just a little, for what he had done to us.
But he didn’t say that. He said: ‘I have a job for you.’ He was still looking at me thoughtfully, but these days I couldn’t see behind the mask.
‘So Elaine told me,’ I said.
‘Elaine?’
‘The woman who took your call. She’s Meditech here.’
‘Oh, her.’ Michael dismissed her.
‘What sort of job?’
Was I really hoping he’d say he needed someone with Forest abilities to solve a City problem? They’d take the plate from my brain. They’d restore me to what I’d been…but of course he didn’t say that either.
‘There’s been a murder in the Outlands,’ he said slowly. ‘Two murders in fact…’
I tried to keep my voice steady. I’d had enough of blood and murders. ‘I thought the City kept out of Outland problems, except where it affects themselves.’
‘We’re not quite that bad, Danny. But…yes, this does affect us in a way.’
‘Is there any reason I need to know about this problem of yours?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Michael slowly.
I wanted to slam the Terminal off. Or, failing that, at least push my chair away and find Elaine and ask her to turn the Terminal off. I wanted to get away from him and all the memories. I wanted to show Michael that simply failing to mention his betrayal didn’t mean I had forgiven him. It was impossible to forgive…
But he had sparked my curiosity. What could possibly be so important to the City—to Michael—that he would risk calling me? Michael had always known how to manipulate me. ‘All right, tell me more,’ I said.
‘As I said, there have been two murders so far.’
‘So far? That sounds like you expect another.’
‘Exactly. The first murder was at a Utopia called Cotton Hill. Their ‘patriarch’ was discovered on the front doorstep three weeks ago. His throat had been slashed open. His flesh,’ Michael hesitated as though the phrase was too melodramatic, but he could think of no other to replace it,’…was ripped, as though it had been chewed.’
‘Oh, my word.’
‘Exactly,’ said Michael again. I remembered when he’d started using that word. We’d been about fifteen…’ The second murder was a week later,’ he continued, as I forced my mind back to the present. ‘The victim—well, you’ve met him. Brother Perry from Nearer to Heaven.’
‘Brother Pederast? Was his throat ripped too?’
‘No,’ said Michael. ‘His heart was torn out and left beside the body.’
I was silent as the image seeped into my brain.
‘Brother Perry was a lecherous, sanctimonious, self-centred bastard,’ I said at last. ‘But even he didn’t deserve a death like that.’
‘I don’t suppose anyone does,’ said Michael calmly. Michael, who had condemned his friends to death or its mental equivalent, MindWipe.
‘Really?’ I said. ‘What sort of death do people deserve?’
Michael looked at me uncomprehendingly. His refusal to acknowledge what he had done to us was total. I shrugged inwardly and moved on.
‘What was responsible? Some animal?’
‘No one seems to think so,’ said Michael.
‘What exactly is my role here? Do you want me to tell you all I know about Brother Perry? He was a pig. End of story.’
‘No,’ said Michael. ‘I want you to solve the murders.’
My life was comfortable again. I was working. My memories of Michael and all we had shared were carefully packed away. I would not have him disturbing my hard won peace.
I leant back in Theo’s comfortable old office chair. ‘Michael, I am a Virtual engineer. A forcibly retired Virtual engineer. I am not an old-style one woman detective agency.’
‘You found the vampire,’ said Michael simply.
‘That was…luck.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ said Michael. ‘It was persistence, plus your training in putting together bits and pieces to make a whole. Plus your Virtual engineer’s observational skills, plus the data you have accumulated all your modified life, plus your native ability which was only enhanced, not created, by your modification.’
‘Well, thank you,’ I said, taken aback by so much praise. I wondered how many times he’d rehearsed it before he called.
‘So you’ll do it?’ His smile of satisfaction made me suspicious all over again.
‘Hold on there. Why is the City involved in this? I had to plead with you to give me any help at all with the…the vampire thing. What do you care about a series of Outland murders? Outlanders take care of their own.’
Michael bit his lip. ‘It affects a consultant we use.’
‘We?’
‘City administration.’
‘She must mean a lot to you,’ I said slowly. ‘For you to take the risk of calling me in.’
‘She’s brilliant, Danny, really brilliant,’ said Michael. He now sounded totally sincere.
I felt a flash of quite irrational jealousy. So Michael had found a woman as brilliant as himself. ‘She is, is she?’
‘She’s the author of The Neo-Authoritarianism.’
‘How fascinating. And what exactly is neo-authoritarianism?’
‘Danny, you wouldn’t understand.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘In spite of my “native ability”?’
Michael sighed. ‘I just meant it’s not your area. It’s a new theory of administrative structure. Basically it means you do away with traditional hierarchies and let natural ability rise to the top. Leaders lead because they can lead, not just because they’ve been given the job. But within these constraints these natural leaders have complete control.’
‘I can see why this theory would appeal to you,’ I said dryly. Or to any young, ambitious administrator sure of their own superiority over the entrenched bureaucrats above them, I added in my mind.
‘So,’ I said aloud, ‘how is this brilliant consultant of yours involved in the murders?’
Michael didn’t meet my eyes. ‘She’s a suspect. Or her family is at any rate.’
‘What? How can someone in the City be suspected of Outland murders? Or does your consultant have a taste for slumming it in the Outlands?’
Until I was Proclaimed I had never even visited the Outlands, nor had anyone I’d known. Of course there were firms who dealt with the Outlands—couriers and technicians who’d accept commissions if they were paid enough. But they weren’t the sort of people that
we knew…
‘She doesn’t live in the City. Nor do her family.’
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘She’s from a Utopia? Or one of the ‘burbs?’ It wasn’t unknown for people from the Utopias to work in the City. People like Neil, who had a permanent City entrance pass, but preferred the Outland’s life.
‘Not exactly. Eleanor doesn’t live in a Utopia. It’s more a family group. A clan, I suppose you’d call it.’
‘She commutes into the City?’
‘No, she uses Virtual. Eleanor and her family are—well, they are…’ It wasn’t like Michael to stumble over his words.
‘Michael, what are you trying to tell me?’
‘There are…outside…genes back in their ancestry.’
‘What! Don’t tell me this precious consultant of yours—what’s her name? Eleanor—is an Animal?’
‘Of course not. Not exactly. The genes are a long way back. Well, you can still see a hint of them…’
‘What sort of animal genes?’ I demanded.
‘Wolf,’ said Michael.
‘What?’ It was difficult not to laugh. ‘You mean Eleanor is a werewolf? Half wolf, half human?’
‘No!’ Michael sounded genuinely angry. ‘I thought you of all people would be a little more…broadminded.’
I sobered up. ‘All right. She and her family have wolf genes. But they’re not werewolves.’
Suddenly it all fell into place. ‘Ah, I see. So that’s why they’re suspects? Throats torn out, blood on the doorsteps, the old wolf in the ancestry emerging again. The beast reverts to type.’
‘Exactly,’ said Michael. ‘There isn’t a shred of evidence. No reason at all to suspect them.’
‘Except the torn flesh. And the wolf genes.’
‘Look, Danny, wolves aren’t aggressive,’ said Michael patiently. ‘They attack for food or if they’re threatened. Humans are far more aggressive than wolves. We kill for—all sorts of reasons.’
‘Yes, I know,’ I said bleakly, remembering the deaths of the Forest.
Michael’s face clouded. He forced himself to smile again. ‘It’s far more likely that a human—a normal, unmodified Truenorm—is the killer, not someone with wolf genes. But there’s a…a certain amount of hysteria in the district. Eleanor is nervous, and…’
‘And a nervous management consultant doesn’t have her mind on the job?’ I could just imagine Eleanor. She’d be tall and slim with long dark hair. Neo-authoritarianism—I could just see her and Michael, plotting their takeovers…
‘Exactly,’ said Michael, ignoring—or missing—my irony.
‘If you don’t mind indulging my curiosity,’ I said, ‘exactly how does this werewolf—sorry, “just a little bit of wolf far back in her ancestry”—consultant of yours manage to work with you? Is Virtual really enough?’
‘Most of the time. I’ve set up a good reciprocal system between our offices. She uses holo for meetings as well. She’s got a portable transmitter and…’
‘And any decent Terminal can receive holograms too. Don’t forget I was in the business,’ I said. ‘How do your…colleagues feel about a wolf trotting about the place?’
‘She doesn’t look at all wolf-like,’ said Michael stiffly. ‘She’s extremely attractive really. (‘Exactly,’ I thought.) But some of her family are a little—well, a little less like Truenorm.’
‘Have you met them?’ I asked, startled. It was difficult to imagine Michael in the Outlands.
A hesitation. You’d have to know Michael well to see it, but once I had known him very well indeed. ‘She’s shown me holos of her kids.’
‘She’s married?’
‘Yes.’ For a moment I thought he was going to add something more. But he just said, as though it was all decided. ‘So, you’ll help her?’
‘No.’
‘But…’
The simple astonishment in his face gave me great satisfaction. ‘Michael, I don’t give a damn if your attractive and brilliant werewolf consultant can’t digest her bones because she’s suspected of tearing out her neighbours’ throats in the night. Get a team of DNA experts out there if you’re so worried. I am not an amateur detective. I looked for the vampire because…well, for many reasons. But I see no reason to get involved in this.’
‘You knew Brother Perry.’
‘I met him twice and disliked him both times.’
‘As a favour to me then?’
‘Why on earth should I do you a favour?’
‘I helped you with the vampire.’
‘I helped the City solve what could have been an unpleasant case, and I’m sure you got some credit for it. I’m sorry Michael.’ I knew my voice held no apology in it at all. ‘No go.’
‘That’s your final word?’
‘My final word. You can sort this mess out yourself.’
The screen faded.
I was still sitting in Theo’s chair ten minutes later, when he opened the door. The hinges creaked. All the hinges in the Utopia seemed to creak lately. Neil said it was because of the drought, though I’d have thought rainy weather would have made them creak more.
‘Danielle! I’m sorry, Elaine said some time ago you were here, but I thought you’d have left by now…’
‘No. I was just thinking…’ I stood up. ‘You can have your chair back now.’
He made no move to take it. ‘I gather Neil’s conference is going well?’
‘Wonderfully. His paper was really well received.’
‘You’re not too lonely up there?’
‘Not at all,’ I said, a little too politely. ‘I’d better go. I want to check the temperature parameters of the waves before I send the final program off.’
‘Ah, your beach project. We’re all looking forward to it enormously.’
‘Really?’ I tried to imagine Theo surfing. The surfing vampire. But Neil had said that he and Elaine had taken him to the beach when he was younger.
‘Especially the Water Sprites,’ added Theo.
Suddenly he had my full attention. ‘Water Sprites?’
I knew the Utopia offered shelter to other Proclaimed modifications like the Centaurs…and me, for that matter, but…‘Water Sprites?’ I said again.
Theo smiled. If you looked closely you could see his canines were just slightly longer and thicker than Truenorm. ‘They live in the top dam, but I imagine it’s a bit boring for them.’
‘I’ve never seen them,’ I said.
‘No? Well, they don’t come out much.’ Theo didn’t elaborate why. ‘Dinner tomorrow night? We could call Neil for you at the same time.’
‘Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you. I’ll look forward to it.’
I left him and walked back to my own house.
Chapter 4
It was drizzling when I stepped outside. The clouds must have drifted over while I’d been inside.
A year before I’d have assumed this drizzle meant the end of the drought. I’d even done a drought Virtual once, a sort of subtle horror theme, the subliminals sneaking up on you till the smell of dusty flesh and hot bone surrounded you. I’d ended it with a sunlit shower of rain, the red-brown greening from the horizon and the onlooker suddenly realising they were smelling flowers and grass.
Today, as an apple farmer’s lover, I knew that this drizzle meant little. A little green fuzz on the hills, perhaps, that would melt away in two days’ sun. No deep moisture for the roots of trees. The small dams would stay dry, the big dam that supplied the orchards and the community would stay half empty. No wonder the Centaurs had come down from the dry hills.
What would it be like to be a Water Sprite and watch your dam dry up? I wondered. Water Sprites…they’d be long-haired and ethereal, I decided, with blue eyes and delicate fingers.
At least the drizzle was a change from blue sky so high you thought it had been doing stretching exercises.
I wished…I wished Neil was waiting for me, instead of an empty house.
I wished it would rain eno
ugh to water the garden, so I didn’t have to bother this afternoon, standing wet and stupid in the rain because the damn stuff couldn’t be bothered to do its job properly.
I wished Michael was…what? Properly ashamed? No, properly anguished, that was the word. As anguished as I had been over the death of my friends, over the brain death of Melanie, but even more anguished than me because it was he who had betrayed us, betrayed us, betrayed us…
I closed the paddock gate behind me (there was no sign of either cows or Centaurs, but I had learnt to keep gates as I’d found them) and began the climb up the hill.
Chapter 5
The clouds hung low and grey till evening. I made myself a boiled egg (from the hens at the Utopia—Realfood was still a luxury, even after a year in the Outlands) and cut slices from the loaf Elaine had given me the day before, and ate it with a salad of tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden. When I looked out the window, the heavens were clear again; stars salted and peppered through the sky, more vivid, now that the full moon had waned to a cheese rind.
The next day was blue and hot and gold, and the next day and the next. Michael didn’t call again. Neil did, but our conversations in Theo’s office seemed incomplete or perhaps, I decided, I simply wasn’t used to the limited communications a Terminal allowed. Perhaps it would be different, I thought, when my manual Terminal arrived and I could talk in the familiar intimate surroundings of our home. But by then Neil should be home.
The beach design was complete. The site was pegged out. The contractors would start work in the next day or two, with their supervisor, a capable woman I’d worked with before. My role was finished until the basic work was done.
The beach would be fresh water, not salt—the only area where I’d deliberately not been accurate, but it would smell and taste salty to anyone microchipped and capable of receiving Virtual signals. In other words, everyone in the Utopia except me. The project would actually increase the water storage capacity of the community.
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