The Troubleshooter: New Haven Blues

by Bard Constantine

  “I take it they’re regretting that move?”

  She drew her finger across her throat. “Scrap heap. Androids are predictable with their sweep patterns. My boys took care of those can openers. No satisfaction in that. I want to see blood, hear screams…” Her eyes held a faraway look as if savoring the thought. “If I get my hands on that bratchnie Captain Graves I will peel him like bacon strips and feed him to my dogs.”

  “No worries on that score, darling. I already took care of that bit of business. Consider it a bonus.”

  She gave me an appraising look from the corner of her eye. We gazed at the lights of the city for a moment before she broke the silence in a low voice.

  “I…suppose the debt between us is cancelled, Mick Trubble. You did good thing for me. We would never have known what was coming.” Her impressive cleavage heaved with her sigh of regret. “I should kill you for good measure, but one turn deserves another. I will call off Nimrods. Be more careful in the future. I will not be so gracious should there be a next time.”

  She walked away with an air of regal satisfaction. Her brunos gave me a last hard look before shadowing her.

  I sipped my drink.

  “Anyone sitting here?”

  I turned my head, and there was Detective Kennedy. She was dressed the part this time, in a flogger and even a Bogart like mine.

  Cute.

  “I’ve been thinking about you, Ms. Kennedy.”

  “Really?” She smiled demurely. “Were they good thoughts?”

  “Depends. Giggle juice?”

  “Why not?”

  I motioned to the barkeep to hit her up with a drink. She ordered a kir, which made the keep raise his eyebrows. I didn’t fault him. He was human, after all. Didn’t have every drink ever made categorized in his data banks like a synoid.

  “Just add a little blackcurrant in some white wine for the lady.”

  I watched her delicately sip after he served it up. I wasn’t fooled, though. Delicate wasn’t the word for Ms. Kennedy. “So, what gives me the pleasure of your company, Detective? Gonna slip the bracelets on me or ask for a dance?”

  She set the drink on the counter and smiled. “I’d very much like a dance, thank you.” She doffed the flogger so I could check out her profile in her cop rags. I love a woman in uniform.

  We strode over to the floor and floated slowly across the polished wood grain. The cat on the sax was good; one of those players you only find in smoke-filled joints crammed with sweat-beaded folks who lived like he played.

  Kennedy was nimble on her feet despite the heels. My hands were at the point of her waist where the swell of her hips bloomed. Her arms were around my neck. She looked up with a pleased smile, allowing me a good look at her eyes. They were dark blue, like the night sky when the moon is brightest.

  She smiled. “I understand Captain Graves won’t be occupying his office anymore.”

  “Afraid not, darling. He met with an unfriendly piece on lead in the line of duty. Comes with the gig. You don’t exactly seem to be mourning.”

  “Graves was corrupt and greedy. He won’t be missed. Someone else will be filling his shoes. Someone with more integrity.”

  “Congratulations, Captain. Integrity isn’t too popular in New Haven, though. Graves may have bitten off more than he could chew in the end, but he knew the way things worked. I’d walk softly, if I were you.”

  Her smile widened. “If you were me, you’d be a lot prettier. Forgive me if I find that advice a little conflicting coming from you, Mr. Trubble. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were worried about me.”

  “You probably should. Know better, I mean. But for some reason I’m kinda taking a shine to you, Captain Kennedy.”

  “How are your memories coming along?”

  I blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. Of course she’d know all about me once she got access to Graves’ files. “Not much to ‘em. Had a couple of fuzzy flashbacks. Far as I know, the rest are lost with all of the Savant’s databanks.”

  “You know why you’re still alive, don’t you? Why even the Gestalt are afraid to knock you off?”

  “Let’s say I don’t.”

  “No one wants to be responsible for the death of one of the Secret Service’s top agents. The Gestalt is waiting, Mick. Waiting to see how it plays out. How the SS will react. Whether they try to recover you…or leave you to the wolves.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “Your future is riding on how they choose to play their hand.”

  I smiled. Not a big surprise. If I didn’t have a heap of trouble on my head, I’d have to find a new line of work.

  “I don’t mind when it rains, Ms. Kennedy. That’s why I carry an umbrella.” I tapped the Replacement Killer in its holster under my arm.

  “None of which helps with the fact I still have a head full of memory implants. If what you’re saying is true, then I had a life before I came here. A life I don’t remember. A life I’m not even sure I want to remember.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Mr. Trubble. Share whatever files Graves had on you.”

  “A gift with a hook, Captain? Why would you scratch my back if I haven’t scratched yours?”

  “You’ve scratched one hell of an itch, actually. The New Man’s plan would have resulted in massive trauma and death for a lot of residents had their implants suddenly been switched off and their true memories restored.” Her eyes searched mine. “You played a huge part in stopping that disaster. It’s what you do best.”

  The music played, but we slowed to a halt as she took my hand in her gloved ones and rolled back my cuff. She scanned my wrist with a thin ultraviolet beam from her holoband.

  “Right now this is all you need to know about who you were.”

  Under the black light, two letters were revealed, framed by a shield. I’d seen the emblem of the Secret Service enough to recognize it on sight.

  “The emblem serves not only as an identifier, but an access code as well. You have priority access to just about anything jacked to the Secret Service’s mainframe. But if you utilize it, they will be able to track you. So use it wisely.”

  Like that was ever going to happen. Having a Secret Service stamp on your wrist was a lot like wearing a live death adder for a holoband. Not that I’d know personally, but either way a man wouldn’t want the experience.

  “Nice to know you’re throwing me an ace, Captain.” We picked up where we left off, though the music faded in the background. My feet moved automatically as my mind tried to reel itself in.

  “One good turn deserves another, Mr. Trubble. It’s good to have someone you can count on when things get hairy. With all that’s going to go down in this town, I might have to call on you for a favor myself someday.”

  “I’m a Troubleshooter, darling. When folks got no one else to turn to, they give me a call.”

  She smiled. She had the kind of smile which made you think of sunlight even when there’s not a ray in the sky. “Then I suppose you only have one last thing to do.”

  “Yeah. Order a drink. Then order another drink.”

  “I’m talking about the feeling you have right now. That tangle of knots in your gut that won’t unravel. The feeling that business is unfinished.”

  “And I guess you’re gonna tell me what that is?”

  “The answer is in your memories. Which for you shouldn’t be hard to find.”

  As soon as the music stopped she separated smoothly and walked away without a backward glance, quickly lost in the swaying bodies and swirling smoke. But her words stayed on my mind. Because I can remember anything except my past.

  And damned if she wasn’t right.

  Chapter 21:The Last Itch

  “Hello, Frankie.”

  Frankie Newman turned slightly at the sound of my voice. “I’ve been expecting you, Troubleshooter.”

  We were at the edge of the Docks, where the water stretched out toward the barrier that separated the Haven from the truth. He looked that dire
ction, where the glow on the horizon announced the sun was about to rise.

  Somewhere out there I’d battled the Savant and won, but lost my memory and maybe my soul in the process. Black, choppy waves had closed over me while he laughed hysterically, bleeding from the slugs I’d put in him. No doubt at the joke he and I had both become.

  I’d gotten those memories back. Which only reminded me of the more important ones I lost. The memories of who I was before I came to New Haven. The ones that were trapped inside of a synoid body. I’d gotten a few answers from all that happened, but they only led to more questions. Things always spin in circles. The universe moves that way.

  “You know, it took me a minute to figure it out. I had to go through my memories and really study what went down. Like when we first saw you here in the Docks. I thought you were doing a little social work. But really, I caught you in the middle of hypnotizing some new recruits to join the ranks of your Specters, didn’t I? You always had one helluva voice, Frankie.”

  He said nothing, just turned to look me in the eye.

  “Then the words the Savant said to the New Man. ‘You are just an apprentice.’ It was you, Frankie. You were his apprentice. The one person he at least halfway trusted. It was you all along. The mole who sold Dr. Faraday’s code to Selene, then turned on her too. Quite a piece of work.”

  His mouth twisted in a sour grin. “You’re on a roll. Continue.”

  “Hunter Valentino told me the best puppet is the one whose strings you can’t see. The New Man was just a puppet, wasn’t it? A puppet under your control, while you went along like you were his servant. Course the name should have rang my bells from the start. Mighty careless of you to call your synoid the ‘New Man’, Newman.”

  “It seems your powers of deduction haven’t been completely stunted. I congratulate you. Not that you’ll have time to enjoy your little moment of triumph. You’ll be dead before the sun rises.”

  “I kinda doubt that, Frankie. But since you don’t, tell me –how’d you do it? Dr. Faraday told me he never finished the prototype. He didn’t seem the trusting type. So how’d you get the inside loop?”

  “Glenn Faraday suffered from a contemptible belief in his own genius. It never occurred to him anyone else was as smart, or clever. Yet there were a few in the Secret Service whose mental abilities rivaled his own. I was one.”

  He smiled. “You were another. How do you think you cracked that code so quickly? It’s the nanoaccelerators. They open the mind to areas previously inhibited. They also do a handy job of speeding up the body’s natural defenses, like the healing process. I understand you were shot recently. You don’t appear the worse for it.”

  I recalled when I ditched the sling Angel had rigged up for me. I flexed the arm automatically, and damned if there wasn’t a twinge of pain. I didn’t bother unwrapping the hand I’d sliced. I could already feel the smooth scar line as if the cut had happened a month ago.

  “You were their top code breaker, a numerical prodigy who also happened to be especially gifted at cold-blooded assassination. My gift lay in hypnotic suggestion.”

  I stared. “You’re an SS agent?”

  “Do you think you were the only one they sent? I infiltrated the Haven before they sent you. How do you think they received their surveillance reports? My mission was to observe and report. It amused me to take a role as Dr. Faraday’s assistant. He’d talk above my head as if I couldn’t understand everything he spoke of.”

  “So you took him out the picture with his own creation.”

  “It was only fitting. He’d made modifications to synoid technology which surpassed even Maximilian Industries. I was able to duplicate some of those processes when I finished the New Man. Communication was transferred via a mental link from me to the synoid, allowing me to control it from any location.”

  “But why, Newman? You were trying to start a process that would have destroyed the entire Haven. What was in it for you?”

  Frankie stared at me as if I’d missed the obvious. “Completion of the mission, of course. I had my orders. When Dr. Faraday discovered your assignment and abducted you, then the capture of the thermal orb became the priority. I was to recover it, use it to disrupt the Command Hub, and escape in the chaos. New Haven was collateral damage.”

  “Collateral damage? Do you hear yourself? You’re talking about people’s lives!”

  His face twisted with a sneer. “Listen to you. You don’t even know who you are. The only reason I had to act was because you were compromised. You would have done the job yourself—yeah, and smiled after it was finished. Killing was the only thing that made you smile. Killing and Natalie. And what a piece of work she is. So don’t talk to me about people’s lives. You’ve taken so many lives you’ve lost count.”

  I swallowed. “No matter who I was before, I’m not that person now.”

  “You’re a basket case with a head full of lies. You are no one.”

  “I’m the one who put an end to your little gambit, Newman.”

  Frankie’s face turned furious. “What a blind fool you are. You’re a man with a mind full of fabrications, yet you jest like the last living clown. Perhaps it’s better you die in ignorance. Now pull your pistol out of the holster, and blow your brains out.”

  His voice resonated and echoed in my head. It sang in my ears like it did before when he froze us in the Docks. My fingers trembled and went to the handle of the Replacement Killer.

  I pulled it out and aimed real careful like. At Newman.

  “Not gonna work this time, Frankie. I got a rather unique type of mind, as you probably know. One which can short your little hypnosis right out. I figure it must be the training from the Service, right? I may not know exactly how to use it sometimes, but I’m better when running on instinct anyway. Hope you got a better trick up your sleeve, because this one’s gotten old.”

  He sighed heavily and sagged like a flower that’s been sitting in the vase too long without sunshine.

  “Tired. Just so tired. The mental strain of operating the New Man…so exhausting. I was so close. Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve caused?”

  “Trouble is what I do best.”

  “Do you?” His eyes blazed. “Do you really? How do you know? You have no memories, Agent Trudo!”

  His gesture took in the whole city. “What do you think this is? It’s an illusion! Don’t you understand? We’re not supposed to be here! The thermal orb was our ticket out of this hellhole! And you –you completely destroyed it, completely sabotaged your own mission!”

  “Sorry, Frankie. I can’t see it that way. I got a second chance here. A chance to be who I choose to be. I believe in New Haven.”

  “You believe in a head full of lies. This place is nothing but a den of vipers. An open gutter for all the filth in the world to bleed into.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. You wanna change the way things are done? So do I. So help me and I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t think so, Troubleshooter. You may have shot my mission down, but my final assignment is you. I’m not near the assassin you were, but I have connections. You hoped for a better trick up my sleeve. You should have known I had an ace.”

  I saw the shadow before the overbearing perfume of flowers filled my nostrils. “Danny the Daisy. I thought I might see you again.”

  “You thought?” The Daisy’s voice trembled. “You should have thought before you killed Silent Ray. Do you know what you did? How much he meant to me?”

  I kept the Killer trained on Newman while I risked a glance at the Daisy. His eyeliner bled down his cheeks in thick black streaks from his unchecked tears. The diamond-coated pistol quivered in his gloved hand.

  “Can’t say I did, Danny.”

  “Who did the deed, Mick? Was it you? The clown in the cowboy suit? Or your quiet Indian friend? I’m killing all of you regardless. But I want to take my time with the bastard who pulled the trigger.”

  “You know I don’t kiss and tell
, Danny boy.”

  “You will if you want a clean death. Now drop the pistol and turn around.”

  I looked at Newman, whose face was twisted by a wry grin which faded with my reply.

  “Can’t do it, Danny. My trigger finger is pretty sensitive, you know. I figure if you take me, I’ll still be able to rub Newman out.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Mick.” Frankie’s voice was a bit shaky. “It’s over. At least have the decency to die with dignity.”

  “Nothing dignified about dying, Newman. And I’d hate to go without bringing someone along for the ride.”

  “Tell me who did it, Mick!” Danny’s voice rose shrilly. “Or I’ll kill you as slowly as possible, I swear. I’ll count to three.”

  The rain had finally stopped. The sky turned a reddish gold as the sun began to creep up from its watery grave. Frankie stared as though not comprehending what was about to happen as he stared down the barrel of the Replacement Killer. A few feet away, Danny the Daisy stamped his foot furiously and counted down.

  “One.”

  Newman spoke softly. “We are nothing without knowledge about ourselves. Without the truth. This isn’t it, Michael. This isn’t living. These people are nothing but a displaced band of lost souls, searching for a way to justify their existence. We’re different. That’s why they have to die. Just tell me.” His voice pleaded. “Just tell me you understand.”

  “Two.”

  I shook my head. “Can’t say I do, Frankie.”

  Three!

  Gunfire blazed. All I heard was thunder.

  Chapter 22: Case Closed

  When the smoke cleared, Danny the Daisy was sprawled across the raggedy grounds of the West Docks in a slowly widening pool of crimson.

  I wasn’t.

  Hunter Valentino strode from behind a stack of dilapidated crates, sniper rifle in hand. “You should have called me for backup.”

  Frankie Newman stared. “You. You’re the synoid Dr. Faraday downloaded his memories into.”