“That’s not your problem anymore.”
“May I at least have the sculpture that you left in my office? It was a gift from Dr. Shepherd.”
“Your clearance has been revoked. Surrender your badge, your gun, and your Commlink to Agent Clayborn. He'll escort you out of the building. Dismissed.”
Clayborn took Fin downstairs and through security where he was scanned, strip-searched again, and cursed at for being such an annoyance. The guards were happy when Clayborn told them it would be the last time they would have to actually work for a living. Across the street, a small group of protesters were picketing against perceived war crimes committed against the Eastern Bloc. Two policemen had just arrived on the scene.
“Armistice not arms,” Clayborn snorted, reading one of their signs. “What a joke. If we weren’t saturating the shit out of those Easterns with polychem, these peaceniks would be holding their protests inside a labor camp. They’ve got no clue of the sacrifices we make so they can do stupid ass things like this. Rights!” He waved his fist at them. “I’ll give you my right!”
There was a single Green among the protesting humans. Standing quietly behind the others out of sight of the Lawspeaker, she was holding a handwritten sign that read, “Equal rights for all.” When one of the protestors dumped a container of red paint onto the pristine walkway and called Council a gang of thugs and murderers with the blood of millions on their hands, the police drew their clubs and moved in. Pushing past the one who had spilled the paint, they went after the Green. They beat her senseless and tossed her over the railing, shouting at her to stay on her own sidewalk. The protestors fled. The police contacted dispatch to report a paint spill on Walkway 15 before going back to their patrol.
Fin stared at the Green lying in a pool of blood on the lower sidewalk, gasping for breath. Not one Cybernite stopped to ask her what had happened or if she were all right. No one even looked at her. They just stepped around her. Fin searched the placid sky for the God they had abandoned and wondered again if God had abandoned them, too, but the sky had no answers, only an endless ribbon of cirrus cloud on a perfect day. He started across the walk toward the steps leading down to the Green.
Clayborn grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t bother,” he said. “I know that crunch. She’ll be Recon by morning.”
“How can you be so heartless?” Fin cried.
“Keep it down, Blue. You know the rules. Now that you’re a civilian, you’ve got to play by them.”
Fin lowered his gaze. “Yes, sir. I should be going now.”
Clayborn produced a flask from his jacket, took a pull, and offered it to Fin. “How about one for the road, for old time’s sake?”
Fin rubbed his jaw. “No, thank you.”
“That thing bothering you again? It looks a little swollen.”
“It started hurting again today. I do not understand it. I have only had a Reconstitute bar and a coffee.”
“It’s probably nerves. You’ve had one hell of a couple days.” Clayborn took another swig and offered it to Fin again. “Come on. This will cure what ails you. It’s real booze, not that synthetic rotgut they serve in Cytown.”
“Really, sir. I’d rather not.”
“Suit yourself.” Clayborn capped the flask and put it away.
Fin said, “I appreciate everything you have done for me under these circumstances. I know it was difficult having a Cybernite as a junior partner. You have told me so many times.”
Clayborn put a hand on Fin’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “You saw how I went to bat for you in front of the commander, right? Like he said, I tried to get you into Records. I stuck my neck out for you, Blue, just like the commander stuck his out for Council. That’s what partners do, even when one of them is a robot. Understand?”
“I believe I do. God be with you, sir.”
Clayborn‘s Commlink blinked. He read the incoming message. “Shit. There’s been another breach.”
Fin gasped. “When?”
“They’re not sure.”
“What did they take?”
“No idea. Roberts said they accessed the agent database again. That’s all I know.”
“Agent Clayborn, you have to catch that mole.”
“We will. You can bet your blue ass on that.”
“I know I am not an agent anymore, but I want to help. Please, let me help. I will do anything.”
“No can do, Blue. You’re out of the picture now.” Clayborn’s Commlink was blinking again. “I’ve got to go—briefing in ten in the commander’s conference room. Do you need a few credits to tide you over?”
Fin absentmindedly massaged his cheek. “No, thank you.”
“Maybe you should have that thing looked at,” Clayborn said. “The way it’s starting to swell up it could be something serious.”
“I have no medical insurance now. I cannot afford a doctor.”
“Have Doc Shepherd look at it then.”
“He did. He thinks it is an allergic reaction.”
“To what?”
“He is not sure, possibly a processing chemical or some toxin in the environment, but he said not to worry about it, that it will pass eventually once my body acclimates.”
“No offense, but Doc’s not a real doc. What you need is a med-tech, one that specializes in your kind.” Fin’s Commlink flashed in Clayborn’s hand. “Speak of the devil," said Clayborn. "It’s a text from your doctor friend. He wants you to meet him at the Haven.”
“The Haven?”
“It’s one of those barely legit dives that serves all kinds. A retired two-star general runs it, an old war hero turned pacifist. He and the doc are buddies from way back. The local cops put in a lot of overtime there, if you know what I mean.”
“Where is this place?”
“Take the Northend train to the Borderland stop. Come up to street level. Face Cytown. It’s just beyond the shield. You can’t miss it. But listen up. That place is a scumbag magnet. Unless you want to wind up in a trashcan, watch your back in there.”
“Thank you, sir. I will.”
“I’ll let him know you’re on your way. Oh, one more thing. This isn’t a round-trip ticket, Blue. They revoked your shield privileges and zeroed your city time. You’ve got one exit left and that’s it. Keep in touch.”
“That will be difficult without a Commlink, sir.”
“Yeah. I suppose it will.”
Clayborn went back into SIA headquarters and Fin headed for the train. The sameness of the city was oppressive, the conformity beyond disturbing. How could they have come to this? How could life be made so lifeless? He kept to the inside edge of the sidewalk, staying out of sight of the humans on the upper walkways, as if afraid this disease eating at the core of their existence would somehow spread to him. His jaw reminded him that it already had.
When he got to the station, he was on the steps to Lower Downtown when he passed Nova coming up. She was dressed in a plain gray suit like the ones he had once worn. Her hair was tied back in a knot. Her violet skin glistened when it caught the light from above.
“Hey, Fin,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“What are you doing here, Nova?”
“I didn’t realize I needed your permission, but since you asked, I’m on my way to work.”
The press of Cybernites coming and going carried her up and him down.
Fin turned around and walked down the steps backwards, “Downtown?”
“Government Sector,” she called over her shoulder.
“Your suit,” he began.
Their voices grew louder as the gap between them widened.
“Oh this? It’s standard SIA issue. Not exactly flattering, is it? But regs are regs, I suppose.”
“SIA?”
“Didn’t they tell you? I’m taking over for you, Fin.”
He stopped. A tired Yellow going home after a long day in the city cursed him and pushed him aside to get by.
“No, they did not,” Fin sai
d.
Nova stopped, too. A Gray bumped into her. “Watch where you’re going, jerk,” she said, shoving him aside. “Wow, Fin. This is awkward. Look, I would have said something last night, but I thought you knew.”
A Lawspeaker activated. Disrupting the flow of traffic disturbs the peace. Fines will be assessed, repeat offenders and those with a negative credit balance will be recycled. So Council has decreed.
Nova glanced down at the three-credit fine that appeared on her Commlink. “Shit. Look, I really have to go, Fin. I’ve got orientation in a few, and I don’t want to be late my first day. See you around.”
She headed up the steps up two at a time. Fin continued down to the Lower Downtown platform and boarded the train.
The Borderland stop was the last within city limits on the Northend line. Fin came up to street level and faced the shield. A few meters away on the other side, it was dismal and raining. It was always dismal and raining there, but in Periculum the rain outside appeared to be no more than a shimmering curtain. He looked up one last time at the blue sky and stepped through the shield into Cytown.
The Haven was a rundown pre-war mansion that had somehow survived the war’s litany of destruction and rebuilding. It had been abandoned for years after the war began. Through a series of grants and variances it had passed to Siegfried Ernst, a military hero who had seen enough of war to know that it was a pointless endeavor. Fin found the old relic wedged between two massive Cyblocks.
Two men stopped him at the door, one a lumbering Gray and the other an even larger human. They searched him for weapons, contraband, and money, taking the few credits he had left as payment for admittance to the bar area which they said was through the arches at the end of the hall. When asked how with no money left he was to pay for food or drink, they responded that whatever they had taken covered whatever he wanted.
Fin made his way through the crowd to the end of the long painting-and-tapestry-covered hall where he paused at the arches to survey the once-magnificent room beyond. Massive wooden beams crisscrossed its high vaulted ceiling. The plaster was painted with odd archaic scenes and humans with wings and circular energy fields above their heads. It was pockmarked and flaking, grime-covered, and obscured by a smoky haze that resisted the pull of a single exhaust fan. The faded walls had wainscoting on their lower portions, much of it defaced or destroyed. Many of the sconces that had in some other time lined the upper portions of those walls with regimented grace were evident only by the exposed discolored surfaces beneath where they had once hung. The focal point of the room was a long ornate bar where every seat was occupied. A dozen or so bartenders were serving drinks to a mix of Cybernites and humans. In the center of the marble floor was a platform on which people were dancing to painfully loud synthesized music. Cordoned off beneath the platform was a crater with what appeared to be an unexploded bomb in it.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s perfectly safe,” Fin heard a voice beside him say. “It’s a sin what it did to the floor, but oh well. C’est la vie. I was stationed in one of the northern continents when I saw this fabulous room in a bombed-out chateau. Most of the house was gone except this lovely space. I couldn’t believe it was still standing. I realized it had to be fate that the bomb never went off, so I bought the chateau for a song, had this room disassembled, and then reconstructed here exactly as it was, hole and all, with the bomb disarmed, of course. What do you think of the chandelier? Magnificent, isn’t it? That’s real crystal, don’t you know.”
Fin realized that whoever was beside him was speaking to him, so he turned from the chandelier to face a wizened old man wearing a jacket covered by an army of medals. His skin was black. His frame was bent. His hair and beard were white. His palsied hands shook, but his eyes . . . There was fire in his eyes.
“Why would you do that?” Fin said.
“Why do we do anything?” the old man replied with a shrug. He took Fin’s hand in his frail grip and shook it. “I’m your host, General Siegfried Ernst, retired. Please, call me Ziggy.”
“God be with you.” Fin bowed. “I am Fin.”
“A Godder, eh? Don’t see many of those. Well, I suppose everyone’s got to believe in something, right? Noah is expecting us. Right this way.”
Ziggy led Fin through a guarded door into a small private dining room. It was quiet inside when the door closed behind them. An air handler hummed softly, removing the smoke that had followed them in. The room was appointed with antiques, not reproductions as Ziggy pointed out. Dr. Shepherd and Esse were sitting at the only occupied table. Shepherd motioned for them to join them.
“Glad you could make it, son. God be with you,” Shepherd said.
“And with us all, sir,” Fin replied. He nodded to Esse and she in return. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Ziggy. “Here are your credits, Fin. I told the bouncers to expect you and to waive the cover charge, but naturally they forgot. They’re cute enough, but I’m afraid they’re all brawn and no brains.”
“Why do you take whatever money a person is carrying for admittance?” Fin asked.
“It’s a symbolic thing mostly.”
“Of what?”
“That some things are worth giving everything for,” said Shepherd. “They took me for forty credits today.”
Esse said, “I did remind you to leave your wallet in the Levcar, Noah.”
“Yes, yes you did, dear, but it was worth it to see my old friend again. We never know when our end will come, and it would be a shame to face it without saying good-bye to the ones most dear.”
“Oh, don’t be so morbid, Noah,” Ziggy said. “You don’t have the strength to kick the bucket."
“You should talk."
Ziggy laughed. “How long has it been, old man?”
Shepherd tapped his chest. “I know it was before I got this new heart—proprietary design, state of the art and all that."
“Is that your fifth ticker?”
Shepherd shrugged. "You should consider one.”
“I would, if I had your money.”
“More money passes through this place in a year than I’ll ever see in a lifetime, you old liar. Your problem is your overhead.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are the police extorting money from you as well?” Fin asked.
Ziggy nodded. “You don’t think they’d allow a place like this in Cytown without taking their cut, do you?”
“It is an interesting establishment—humans and Cybernites together with no shield between them.”
“As it should be,” Shepherd said. “Not this ‘them and us’ nonsense. That wasn’t the way it was meant to be. My children were supposed to be equals.”
“And my mother was a nun,” Ziggy laughed. “What did you expect, Noah?”
“I expected more.”
“We’re only human.”
Shepherd’s face darkened. “Yes. The age-old excuse for bigotry and hatred. You of all people should know better.”
“Why do you think I quit the service, too many medals and not enough jacket? War upon war is not the answer. We need to get along. We need to end this senselessness fighting or we won’t survive it.”
“It’s too late for that. This Great War will be the end of everything, and it’s coming sooner than you think.”
“Noah, you don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?”
The conversation turned contentious and remained that way until waiters returned with refreshments. Ziggy explained that the water was purified onsite in a three-stage filter system, and the strawberries were an engineered hybrid grown hydroponically under artificial lights in an underground warehouse that he owned nearby.
Ziggy toasted them. “To my friends, may we all live to see peace in our time.”
Shepherd huffed. “Peace will come when every man on this planet is dead.”
“Don’t start again, Noah.”
Fin slid his credits
back across the table toward Ziggy.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ziggy said.
“I want to.”
Shepherd studied Fin’s unsettled expression. “I am sorry about you losing your job, son.”
“You knew yesterday, didn’t you?”
“The old coot knows everything that goes on in Periculum,” said Ziggy. "Or hadn't you noticed?"
“I met Nova,” Fin said.
“She told me,” said Shepherd.
“I found out today that she is replacing me at the SIA.”
“Are you upset that I didn’t tell you over lunch?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Those ridiculous bureaucrats swore me to secrecy.”
“If anything, I am disappointed in myself.”
“Don’t be.”
“How long have you been developing the Violet prototype?”
Shepherd shrugged. “Since the day you were born.”
“They swore you to secrecy on that, too?”
“I think Noah was hoping you’d succeed and he wouldn’t need to put it into service,” Ziggy said. “Right, Noah?”
“It was classified,” Shepherd said.
Fin said, “You were planning for my failure all along.”
“I was planning for the inevitable. That’s how science works, son.”
“And I am the failed experiment.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Ziggy. “Life is an experiment. This place, this city, this civilization—it’s all an experiment, a silly one at that, if you ask me.”
“And what happens to the failed experiments?” Fin said.
“We learn from them, toss out the old, and bring in the new. What else?” Shepherd patted Fin’s hand. “But you are not a failure. No one will be tossing out my perfect son.”
Fin pulled his hand away. “Why do you insist on calling me that?”
“Does it bother you?”
“I am far from perfect.”
“You’re everything I’d hope you’d be, everything mankind is not. Someday you’ll see that.”
“I am a Cybernite. I am the slave of a dying race. That is all I see.”
“You are a free man.”
“So,” Ziggy interposed. “Any plans now that you’re footloose and fancy free?”
Fin Page 16
